The Art of Hidden Personas
by whitedwarf
Summary: HP/LV Harry grows up relying on only himself until his adoption, when he is taught the manners and politics of high pureblood circles. Masking his dark intelligence at Hogwarts & intending to escape notice, past secrets and Dark Lords force his hidden hand.
1. Exactly What I Wanted

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Summary: An unwanted mistake, Harry grows up relying on only himself until his adoption by a magical widow who recognises his parentage for what it really is. Taught the manners, politics and manipulations of high pure-blooded wizarding circles Harry learns to mask and hone his darkness and intelligence swiftly. Deciding to attend Hogwarts Harry chooses to keep a low profile, wishing to escape notice and instead learn and observe those around him. But with the resurrection of Lord Voldemort and his half brothers involvement in his sixth year everything is about to change. As Voldemort begins to spread his influence across Europe Harry's carefully cultivated persona in Britain will begin to unravel as past secrets are found out, Dumbledore becomes interested, tempers flare and Harry's true self it allowed free reign as the only way of surviving the threatening politics of both sides of the war. Only able to rely on himself Harry must dance with the dangerously handsome Dark Lord and the Lord of the Light while dealing with the unfolding secrets of a past and family better left forgotten.

SLASH HP/LV

* * *

It was late. The only light in the skinny corridor came from a lone candle lantern fixed high in the ceiling. That tiny flame could hardly fill the space with light and she knew this. It was why she had chosen this part of the house to think. The shadows swallowed her form and allowed her to hide in a way the damning rays of light never could.

The silence was suddenly broken by a desperate and loud gasp from breath followed by the sound of a muffled sob. The beautiful red-headed witch quickly clamped one of her shaking, pale white hands across her mouth and the other around her waist with bruising force.

"Lily?" Unmistakably male, the distant call began increasing in volume the closer its owner moved towards the silently crying woman.

Knowing she hadn't much time to compose herself Lily let her hands fall to her side and forced herself to breathe deeply in an effort to slow her breaths and stifle her tears.

"Lily?" The voice was closer now and she knew that the man had only the small flight of steps to climb before he entered her sanctuary.

"Breathe, Lily. Just breathe." She murmured to herself before straightening her back and opening her mouth to answer the man.

"Where do you suppose your Mummy is Prongslet?" The man's playful question followed by a baby's squeal of happiness made the woman go rigid and her carefully cultivated expression to crumble. It had been so long since she had heard that loving tone within his voice.

"Upstairs? You think so huh? Well, who am I to ignore the great insight of such a little genius!" The man laughed theatrically before a loud creak was heard from as the man was climbed the stairs.

Lily quickly raised her wand and erased all evidence of her breakdown, her red and puffy eyes were now gone along with the greyish hue of her skin. Still, even magic couldn't put the fire back in her emerald eyes.

"Lily?" The man's voice was softer now as he stood not three meters from her yet totally unaware of her presence. Lily took the time to study the man. Handsome. She smiled sadly. Black Potter hair sat messily covered his head while hazel eyes eyed the hypnotic morphing of the abundant shadows warily.

The babe looked like his Father primarily but he had her red hair and straighter nose.

Swallowing past the lump in her throat Lily forced herself to leave the shadows comforting embrace, "I'm here James." She spoke quietly.

The man in front of her gave her appearing figure a sharp and searching look, the intelligence in his eyes quite dominant at that moment.

The pair stood in silence ignoring the happy gurgling of their child as the stared at one another.

"Something you wish to tell me Lily?" James asked calmly his eyes watching for any sudden tension or nerves.

Lily lifted her chin. "Are Sirius, Remus and Peter still here?"

"Of course." He answered.

Lily took a deep, shuddering breath and watched with joy as some concern melted back into those hazel eyes. "Once they leave and Landon's asleep...if you wouldn't mind." She said, and the formal politeness in those words caused her to wince in pain.

She and James had been having some problems recently.

The man nodded silently and turned on his heel to begin his decent. His foot paused on the first step and Lily could only wait stoically in hopeful agony for the man she loved to speak.

"Are you joining us?"

Her breath hitched.

"...Do you want me to?"

It was the unexpected and totally unfamiliar timid voice, more than anything, which made him look in her direction. Silence dragged as he waited for her to raise her eyes and when she did he saw the self-loathing, unbearable guilt and misery shining in her orbs and in what felt like forever he was able to look at her without the ice and fire clawing painfully at his belly.

"...James?..." he watched his normally fiery wife whisper his name brokenly, her emotionless mask unsustainable.

"...Yes." He said softly before turning around and climbing down the stairs without once looking at her face.

* * *

They were in James's study. His friends had left an hour ago. Landon; their son, had finally fallen asleep half an hour ago and they had been sitting in silence with only the sporadic pop and sizzle of the blazing fire beside them for the last twenty.

Lily felt nauseous.

It could have been from the devastatingly awkward dinner she had experienced, there was a large possibility that was the reason. She clenched her eyes shut and pressed a closed fist against her stomach. But something told her that wasn't why.

"What is it you wanted Lily?" James said, his voice held no emotion and she knew that if he could have borne to look at her that his eyes would have been ice cold.

She opened her mouth to speak but ended up closing it again when she couldn't think of the words.

She drank in the handsome sight of her husband greedily from where she sat, "...James," his name was a plea in and of itself. She knew what she wanted to say. Of course she did. Lily just couldn't bring herself to utter the words.

"What do you want from me?!" James suddenly snapped fury and bitterness coating his words.

Despite his intimidating tone Lily felt her hope swell, his anger was better than the ice cold indifference and disgust he had been treating her with for two months now.

"I-I don't know." Liar. She wrung her hands nervously in her lap ignoring the increasing rolling of her stomach. "I know it's impossible..." She bit her lip to stop it from trembling, "but I want what we had back again."

James was suddenly out of his chair and pacing furiously, hazel eyes flashing intensely.

"Fuck..." He swore explosively to himself before rounding on her exhausted form, "_why _Lily! _WHY _did you do it?!"

"I don't know!" She cried pathetically. But she did know. She knew only too well why she cheated on James.

"I can't even look at you!" James yelled at his miserable wife, "...knowing that you gave yourself to another man, while almost unbearable, I think I could live with it...but the result! it just...FUCK!"

"I do love you..."Lily whispered.

James seemed to deflate. Looking at his wife he knew that he still loved her. In a way he wasn't that surprised when she told him, and she had. Lily had told him about her affair herself. What he didn't understand was why...sure he hadn't been around much but he knew Lily...she loved him. He had known the girl since she had been eleven.

"Were you forced?" James asked without emotion.

For a split second Lily considered saying yes but shook her head. She would never be able to get away with it.

"Tricked?"

"In a way." She murmured.

James's brow twitched. "What do you mean?"

Lily shrugged. It wouldn't help her case.

"Do you love him?"

"No!"

James watched her response carefully, watched the shocked widening of her eyes and the abhorrence darken the green.

James sighed. She wouldn't tell him anything. Who the man was. Why she did it. How long their affair was for. If there a reason at all. Nothing!

"Do you regret it?" He finally asked.

Lily looked at her husband and thought about her son sleeping upstairs and realised he needed an answer to this, and there was only one which he would accept.

"Yes."

She could see him struggling and relented a bit. "James. There was a reason I did what I did. It was not because I was in love with him or hold even the slightest ounce of affection for the man. This-this...thing...growing inside of me repulses me because of what it represents." Lily continued.

James shook his head his hazel eyes glowing with hatred as they settled on his wife's belly.

"I can't raise it Lily. I refuse to."

Despite her earlier words Lily still felt her stomach drop. Her hand covered her stomach almost protectively before she realised what she was doing and felt disgust for her subconscious thoughts.

"James. I love you...but I have to know, can you forgive me?" It was blunt but she needed the answer.

James looked into her eyes and knew he was still in love with her, as he always had been.

She had a reason. It kept echoing in his mind.

He leant forward and kissed her smooth, plump lips for the first time in over two months.

"I forgive you." He whispered.

Lily launched herself at him wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and burying her face into his neck as she started crying.

James smiled slightly as he stroked the beautiful woman's hair, waiting patiently as she calmed down. When her sobs had disappeared and her shaking stopped James narrowed his eyes and spoke into the silence.

"I will not abide the child Lily."

He felt her stiffen slightly before nodding mutely against his neck in agreement.

"As soon as it's born I'll put it up for adoption."She said.

His jaw clenched.

"No."

All of James Potter's anger and bitterness at her betrayal had shifted onto the child growing within his wife. It was the problem. It's absence the solution.

Lily pulled back to look at her husband in question.

"It will be as if this child was never carried by you Lily. We tell no one of your pregnancy. No one." James dictated and Lily swallowed past her unease knowing that this was the only way to get her family back, her husband and son...her only son. "I will pay a qualified witch to birth the thing and then I will obliviate her. You will not name the child. It will be given to an orphanage of acceptable distance from here. No one will know, pregnancy's can be hidden. I want it to be like this child never existed."

James wouldn't budge. He had a cruel streak and though she knew that it was wrong to view the child as the root and cause of the problem she couldn't help but be thankful that his mind had divided it in such a way. Thinking about it, it would be best if her pregnancy was never known and the child disappeared into obscurity. _He _would never know. And she would never have to face her mistake again.

"Yes James. I think that would be best." She agreed quietly.

Feeling him relax with her words Lily desperately wanted to prove to him that he had made the right decision by taking her back again. Turning her head slightly she pressed a light kiss to his neck and the hollow at the base of his ear. Ignoring the voice in her head that told her that she also wanted the distraction from the guilt she refused to acknowledge, Lily bit down on his earlobe gently enjoying the way his muscles had tensed again and his breath was speeding up.

Slowly kissing her way across his jaw Lily finally pressed a soft kiss to his lips at the exact same moment she pressed her right hip against his arousal. James groaned against his wife's lips and brought his hands to settle around her waist. When Lily had thrown herself into his arms earlier it had resulted with Lily sitting across his lap on the floor, a position he desperately wanted to change. Still passionately lip-locked James silently urged his wife to move, his hands directing her as she slowly lifted her hips and shifted so that her legs were now on either side of him. Deliberately she rocked forward against James, her movement creating a delicious friction. Ripping their mouths apart James began to unbutton the simple white blouse she wore kissing his way further down as the beautiful red-head continued her torturously slow rocking above him.

Suddenly, between feverish kisses and heated skin James's movements halted abruptly.

"James?" Lily asked a little short of breath and trying to clear the lust from her thoughts.

James, for his part, was staring at the slight bump on Lily's normally flat stomach with an unreadable expression. His hands still held the last button he had yet to undo in his grasp but his eyes refused to lift from the spot.

Lily flushed and slowly climbed off of James buttoning her shirt closed as quickly as she could.

"How many months along are you?" He asked quietly.

Lily chanced a glance and sighed in relief when she recognised that James wasn't looking at her in revulsion but...she glanced down and swiftly slid the last button closed.

"Three months." She answered quietly.

James ran his hand through his hair and gracefully rose to his feet.

"Can you disguise it now?" He asked.

Lily frowned in confusion. There was nobody around to see.

"I-I can't make love to you Lills when it's right in front of me. I just can't." He explained.

Somehow, that comment made her feel worse than any of the others did and she didn't know why. She hated seeing the bump herself when she looked in the mirror. It was understandable; how James felt. She nodded once and cast the glamour on herself, surprised when James was there immediately kissing her passionately with little abandon.

Later, as James slept peacefully beside her Lily rose from the bed pulling on a dressing gown to cover her obvious nakedness and padded to the bathroom. There, in the protection of her own company, Lily faced the mirror and took down the glamour. Staring at the tiny bump she allowed herself this one moment to feel the inevitable love she felt for the baby, allowed herself to realise its innocence in all of this.

Sighing, Lily turned around and flicked her wand turning the light off before making her way back to her room. Pulling the covers aside she slid into the bed's warmth and closed her eyes to the world, letting the bitterness, manipulations and lie's the child was conceived in wash over her again.

She recast the glamour then turned on her side and cuddled up to James smiling as his arms snaked around her slim figure and pulled her closer to his chest.

.....................................(6 MONTHS LATER)..................................................................

"Ahhh!" Lily screamed in pain as the mediwitch urged her to push harder.

"I can see its head love! It shouldn't be long now. Just concentrate on pushing and seeing your adorable baby for the first time." The middle aged woman encouraged warmly.

"Keep your comments to yourself, Madame; no-one here wants to hear them." James snarled, the woman's words did nothing but increase his hatred for the thing.

The mediwitch drew back at the words; highly offended. "My word..." she gasped.

"Just get on with it!" James snapped impatiently.

Lily tried desperately to keep her mind on the actual delivery but her thoughts were swirling in a confused mess. She wouldn't even get to meet the child. She sobbed as another contraction hit, whether it was from the pain in her body or her thoughts she didn't know anymore.

"That's it sweetie, almost there...and, yes!" A baby's cry broke through as the mediwitch cut the umbilical cord and beamed down at the child.

"It's a boy!" She sang happily to the beautiful, exhausted witch on the bed before turning towards the man in the corner.

"Would you like to hold your son sir?" she asked gently, sure that the man's earlier unkindness was just due to worry and anxiety for his wife and child.

The man's expression became thunderous, "It is not my child!" he hissed and pointed his wand at the woman intent on obliviating her.

"James! The baby, be careful!" Lily cried out.

James glared at his wife warningly, his tolerance at an end for the day.

"Do you want to do this Lily? You told me you held nothing but hatred for the child, now we can get rid of it and get on with our lives. That is what you wanted, is it not?"

Lily was stumped for a moment before she slowly nodded. "Yes. Yes, this is what I want."

"What is going...?!" The kind mediwitch's words were cut short as James brutally erased her memories of the child, ripping the newborn babe roughly from her cradling embrace.

Lily opened her mouth to protest but swiftly shut it again and forcibly turned her eyes to the window, unwilling to watch as her husband apparated away with her son.

The middle aged witch blinked stupidly before she looked at her surroundings in confusion.

"Good Merlin! Where on earth am I? Miss? Miss..." But Lily ignored her questions; too busy justifying her actions to herself to pay the distressed woman any heed.

* * *

"Just take it. I want nothing to do with the thing ever again." James grimaced as he handed the silent babe to the young woman who had answered the orphanage's door.

"What? B-but...excuse me, you can't just... Sir, sir!" The twenty three year old woman called frantically after the man but as she rounded the corner he had disappeared around there was no sign of him anywhere.

"God..." She shifted the still silent child into a better position eyeing the empty streets nervously, "what am I going to do with you?" She said to the baby softly.

A gasp escaped her as she glimpsed the most enchanting pair of emerald eyes she had ever seen blinking back at her. Recovering from her shock she smiled at the beautiful child softly.

"My, aren't you a gorgeous fellow." She laughed.

Slowly, Megan began to walk back towards the orphanage hunched over the tiny figure protectively.

"Such a stunning person must have an equally captivating name, no?" She laughed delightedly, she had never named anyone before, "I think...Hadrian will serve you well little one, Hadrian Walker."

* * *

"Is it done?"

"I don't want to talk about that, it's behind us. In fact, I feel like doing something that doesn't involve any talking."

"James..."

"Enough Lily. It's over now; let's just get on with our lives. It's just you, me and Landon."

"...Exactly what I wanted."

* * *

"And you say the man simply put him in your arms and left Megan?"

"Yep, said he wanted nothing to do with the child."

"Well he can't stay here, there isn't any room."

"Where will he go then?"

"No need to be distressed child. I have a friend who runs an orphanage not far from here; in London, I'm sure they have room the child."

"What? Mr Shields? Isn't...well...I haven't always heard great things about Blackborne Mrs Phillips."

"Nonsense child, those are simply ugly rumours, no truth whatsoever. He will be well looked after."

* * *

Please drop a review and tell me what you thought. Good, bad, intriguing?


	2. Mercurial moods

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Thankyou all so much for the wonderful reviews!

* * *

A little boy; couldn't have been older than six, sat on a small, wet, stone wall completely alone scuffing his already ratty looking shoes against the muddy grass at his feet. The rain that was falling wasn't particularly heavy, yet, neither was it light. It was the type of rain that seems never ending; the type that soaks through your clothes faster than a downpour in a thunderstorm seems to. The type of rain that's cold. Yet, still the boy sat there, head bowed, nothing around him for miles but soggy green grass and dense clumps of trees that would have given the boy some shelter from the rain if he had wished it.

One of the boy's tiny little hands came up to his face and wiped at his cheeks, even though he was only six his tears embarrassed him. Only weaklings cried. The black haired boy went to bite his lip only to whimper in pain as he torn at the bloody, swollen cut that was there. In fact, the boy had numerous scrapes and cuts all over his body including an increasingly purple bruise around his left eye. The little boy tried in vain to wipe off the mud that seemed to cover every part of him, stubbornly not allowing the water in his eyes to fall even though there was not a soul around that would see them even if the rain didn't disguise the evidence.

Harry didn't need to glance up at the sky to know that it was getting late and he should have already been back at Blackborne, even knowing that and the punishment he would doubtless receive he couldn't make himself move. He didn't want to go back. He hated the orphanage and everything about it. He hated the other children that wouldn't leave him alone instead choosing to amuse themselves by tormenting him. He hated that the meagre food they were given was always cold no matter the weather and he hated Mr Shields. He hated the sinister curl to the man's smirk and the way his nose never stopped running so his upper lip was permanently moist. He hated the man's slight hunch and the way only five thick strands of black hair were combed to cover his otherwise bald head. He hated the way the caretaker's eyes would flutter amongst the boys and girls at dinner time searching for the one he would take aside that night.

Harry shuddered telling himself that it was just the cold and that he wasn't scared of the man in charge of his fate. Forcing himself into a standing position Harry started jogging in the direction of Blackborne trying to hold his wrist as still as possible. Thunder crashed overhead but Harry paid it no mind. He was used to it. That particular field of grass with its short stone wall had been his sanctuary since he was four. He ran to the spot as fast as he could whenever the other children began their merciless teasing. Sometimes, it wasn't so bad; they would only call him names and laugh at him, shoving him to the ground once or twice. But other times...Harry shook his head as he ran letting his fingers gently finger the swelling bruise on his eye.

Nimbly climbing the high, front, iron gates of the orphanage Harry quickly ran across the courtyard to a back window that was always left open. Shimmying his way inside, he let out a gasp of relief when he spied the last of the children filing into the dining hall and quickly joined the end of the queue. If the six year old had been looking closer he would have noticed the interested eyes of Mr Shields watching him closely as he climbed in the open window in the deserted back room.

"Do you want to play with me?" Harry looked up from his book and saw Marcia; the bane of his six years of existence.

Harry dismissed the girl and looked back down at his book. "No."

The blonde girl pouted before grinning impishly and snatching the book out of his hands holding it up to her face curiously.

"Hey! Give that back!" Harry shouted reaching for the book he considered to be a priceless treasure.

The girl laughed and darted away from his grasping hands.

"This is a chapter book!" Marcia exclaimed in surprise.

"I know." Harry grumbled.

"You can't read this! The older kids can't even read it! Why are you pretending you can?" The blonde girl stated with all the imperiousness of a seven year old girl who believes that she knows everything.

"Give it back!"Harry yelled jumping fruitlessly for the book above him but his small height was no match for the older girl. "And I do know how to read it!"

"You're lying!"

"No, I'm not! I can read it!" Harry blinked away the tears in his green eyes as he tried again to reach for the book and failed while all the kids around them laughed meanly.

"Stop being such a little snot Walker, nobody believes you." Daniel Moorhead, one of the bigger twelve year olds sneered.

"I'm not lying!" Harry shouted back against the weight in his chest breathing through his mouth because his nose was stuffy from trying not to cry.

"Oh, poor little Hadrian, lying and making a pest of himself for attention, just go away brat, nobody wants you."Tommy Steep, Daniel's best friend mocked cruelly.

Harry flinched back like he'd been struck at the boy's words and immediately regretted it. If he had learnt only one thing in his short life of enduring their relentless taunts almost daily, it was to never show weakness. Never show them that what they said hurt or affected you in any way.

Tommy grinned excitedly his brown eyes twinkling in anticipated pleasure. "Hit a nerve did I Walker? Nobody wants you; didn't you know that was true? You were abandoned as a baby because no one could stand to be around such a freak!"

Marcia's blue eyes were darting anxiously between Harry and all the other children wanting to stick up for him but too afraid they would round on her in anger so she just looked down and away, ignoring what they were doing.

The feeling of being surrounded by laughing, mocking taunts was oppressive.

Harry ran.

He tripped and fell when somebody threw a shoe at the back of his head, crying out in pain when he fell on his sore wrist. The children just laughed cruelly as he picked himself out of the mud and took off at a sprint towards his place.

He shouldn't have let their words affect him as much as they did, he knew better! But Marcia had accused him of lying about being able to read that book and he wasn't lying! He could read it! He prided himself on being smarter than all the other children here, it was one of the only things he had and she'd just treated it like worthless trash!

Oomph!

Harry went sprawling backwards as he ran into something hard, hitting his head against a stone Harry gasped back his tears. He wouldn't cry. Not because of them! But try as he might he was still only six years old and the water began cascading down his cheeks.

"What do we have here?" A raspy female voice startled Harry out of his misery and he looked up at the old woman realising that she had been the one he had crashed into.

Sniffling a little while hurriedly wiping his cheeks Harry attempted to stand as he apologised to the woman as best he could.

The woman chuckled deeply, "My, what a polite young man you are. What is your name?"

Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "What's yours?" he demanded.

The woman's lips quirked in amusement before she answered the boy, "Raven Nadine, and you?"

"...Hadrian Walker." He replied softly.

Her brow creased in confusion for a moment and Harry thought he heard her whisper 'Muggle?' and 'boys magic' before she turned her attention back to the bewildered looking child in contemplation.

"Do your parents know where you are Hadrian?" The woman asked gently and Harry could tell she was trying to calm him down and appear less threatening. He shot the woman a wry look which she seemed surprised and then delighted by before answering.

"I don't have any parents. I'm an orphan, I live at Blackborne." The name of the orphanage reminded him of his daily hell and his brightened mood dimmed quickly.

"Don't like it there?" She guessed and Harry merely shrugged. Don't show weakness; especially around potential enemies. Harry remembered the lesson well; he'd learnt it when he was four.

The lady looked intrigued by the bright boy before her. Spying some blood soaking the hair on his head she flourished her wand and healed both that and the wrist she saw him clutching.

Harry gaped at the woman with wide eyes, "How'd you do that?" he whispered in awe.

She smirked down at the young wizard with a secretive smile. "You'll find out on your eleventh birthday."

Harry scowled in distaste, he hated secrets. At least the ones he wasn't privy to.

The woman laughed again delighted and charmed by the child, "here, let's clean that mud off your face and clothes shall we?" Until then Harry hadn't noticed that his entire face was covered completely in mud and nodded enthusiastically.

Smiling indulgently, Raven flicked her wand and vanished it all.

Harry held his arms out in front of himself in wonder looking at the perfectly clean white skin in amazement. He looked up with a grin to thank the woman and paused at her look of shocked disbelief.

"Ms Nadine?" Harry called softly unnerved by the odd look.

Suddenly, he had a wand pointed threateningly at his face and the woman's expression was now distrustful, angry and cold.

"Who are you child? What is your real name?" She snapped threateningly.

Harry's eyes were enormous as he stared at the lady in scared confusion.

"I told you my name!" Harry tried to keep his voice from shaking in fear but looking into those ice cold violet eyes he knew she was not a woman who showed mercy.

"Do not lie to me boy, you're features are clearly aristocratic and I can sense your magical aura so you must be a pureblood. Which family do you belong to? Speak boy, before I lose my patience, I am not above cursing a child." She spat acidly.

Harry's own anger sparked at being called a liar, it was one of the only insults he could not stand.

"I am not lying to you!" Harry yelled, "I have no parents, they didn't want me. I've lived at the Blackborne orphanage for as long as I can remember and my name is Hadrian Walker!" Harry shouted gasping deeply for breath at the end of his tirade.

The woman eyed him shrewdly for several moments and Harry was sure that his life had come to an end and then the most peculiar thing happened. Without any warning the lady was suddenly beaming, the toothy grin attractive on her weathered face. Harry gawked at the bipolar woman unable to follow her turbulent emotions as she returned her wand up the sleeve of her robe swiftly.

"Well, I am terribly sorry young man, one can never be too careful." She chirped happily but Harry thought he detected a knowing suspicion glinting in her eyes.

Harry almost allowed himself to sag in confused disbelief but that would be showing weakness and that was unacceptable.

Raven Nadine wasn't one for impulsive decisions but something told her to take this young boy under her wing. She liked his keen, sharp intelligence, his pride, control and backbone. Not to mention the impressive power she felt wafting off of him in waves. The only thing that the boy was missing was polish. His natural gifts and talent would make him an awesome wizard one day, she was sure...but if she taught him how to dance...she smirked darkly...how to manipulate and play politics...he could be anything he wanted to be. She was sure of it.

"How would you like to come live with me Hadrian?" She asked right off the bat. No sense beating round the bush.

Harry blinked at the mercurial moods of the woman opposite him before grimacing.

"It's not nice to lie." Harry snapped at the woman but he couldn't dismiss the hope swelling in his chest, even if he didn't believe the strange woman.

"I'm not lying." She said simply not at all offended by a six year old insulting her.

"I don't know you and you know nothing about me. You can't be serious!" Harry scoffed.

She leaned forward and grasped his chin with her fingers forcing him to look into her eyes, "Deadly."

Harry swallowed.

"Why?" The boy whispered in a voice almost too soft for the woman to hear.

Raven straightened up and peered down at the boy for a long moment letting him see the seriousness and sincerity in her eyes.

"You are a rare person Hadrian Walker...and I like you." Her serious statement ended with an impish smile.

"..." Harry could only gape at her feeling awfully stupid. When she merely raised an eyebrow in amusement he flushed; embarrassed, ducking his head slightly.

"...Everyone calls me Harry." He said meekly, shocked to find that...extraordinarily...he _believed_ her.

Now it was Raven's turn to scoff and she smiled at the boy gently, "I much prefer Hadrian. It suits the wildness I see in your eyes."

Harry felt the back of his neck burn hotly as he blushed at her comment feeling awfully self-conscious and shy.

Nadine tisked, "Now that will have to change young man, confidence is always a virtue."

Harry couldn't help but grin mischievously and glance up at the lady through his black eyelashes, "What about arrogance Madame?"

Raven was startled for but a moment before she chuckled in appreciation, the boy was sharp. "Arrogance; Hadrian, is only distasteful in those whose are unable to back it up." She grinned in amusement. Harry felt himself smiling back at her until his face dropped at a crushing realisation.

"You'll go to Blackborne and see all the other children and you won't want me to live with you anymore." Harry said miserably, his heart sinking at what he knew to be truth. He knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up, it only ever ended in bitter disappointment.

"Ah, but Hadrian, I don't want another child. I want _you_." Raven said in a no-nonsense voice which brooked no argument and Harry felt his grin returning. "Now, where is this orphanage of yours?" She asked with a very business-like voice.

"_Now_? You want to adopt me..._now_?" Harry was practically bouncing in excitement and for the first time in a long time actually acted his age.

"Yes, Hadrian. Now lead the way. We will be leaving this place tonight."

Harry could barely contain his joy as he sat on the uncomfortable wooden bench in the rundown reception area watching Raven Nadine arguing with Mr Shields and the other carers about her adopting him.

"But surely one of the other children would be more to your liking? Harry is such a troubled child, really a handful and an absolute nightmare." Mrs George said and Harry just barely maintained his expression wanting to glower at the unattractive woman with as forbidding a glare as he could muster.

"It's _Hadrian_." Raven said with such disgust and class dripping from her words that Mrs George literally drew back, feeling small and insignificant in the intimidating older woman's presence.

Harry coughed slightly when he couldn't contain his laugh and watched Raven wink at him from the corner of her wrinkled eye.

The adoption papers appeared and Harry did grin this time as she began signing the copious amounts of paper work.

"Harry?" Hadrian looked up into the contemplative face of Mr Sheilds and suppressed a shudder.

"Yes sir?"

"A word please."

Harry looked at Raven but she waved him off with a 'don't be too long though' which he had every intension of following.

As soon as they were out of sight Mr Shields clamped down a heavy hand and steered Harry through the crowd of children deeper into the building. As they were approaching a very familiar door Mr Shields decided to at last speak up, "Do you recognise this room Harry?" he asked as he opened the door and shut it again behind him.

"Not in particular sir." Hadrian answered watching the man in suspicion which quickly turned to unease as he locked the door before advancing forward.

"Are you sure Harry?" he drawled, his lips curling in a sinister way, "I'm sure I saw you climbing in through that window just last night."

Harry's breathing stopped for a moment with the dread and horror of being found out but then he remembered that Raven was adopting him at this very moment and this man in front of him no longer controlled his life.

"Do you think I should tell Ms Nadine about your rebellious acts? I'm sure it wouldn't impress her and she just might decide that one of the other children would be a better pick." He raised a hand to stroke the top of Harry's head, his fingers slowly exploring down Harry's neck to trace his trembling lips softly enjoying the fear on the beautiful boy's face.

"She wouldn't choose someone else," Harry whimpered, the feeling of hands running intimately up and down his back freezing him in place. "She said she wanted me. Me."

Harry yelped as those hands suddenly dipped underneath the hem of his fraying t-shirt running up and down his chest pawing uncomfortably at his sensitive skin.

"But can you afford to take that chance Harry?" The man laughed cruelly.

But Harry had finally overcome his bodies frozen actions and began squirming frantically. Harry gasped in pain as Mr Shields lifted a hand to slap him harshly across the face, the other digging into the skin around his waist.

"You will do as I tell you boy or I will make sure that Ms Nadine never adopts you," he snarled harshly pulling down Harry's trousers with a swift yank and muffling the boy's frightened scream with his hand. Mr Shields used the other to fumble around with his own belt as he eyed the exposed body of the six year old hungrily.

"I was willing to wait a couple more years until you were older Harry but I can't let such a beautiful thing such as you go without sampling you first." The man laughed maliciously as he finally tugged his own pants down and forced Harry onto the floor, the stunning cold of the stone against Harry's bare back sending shocks of pain through his body.

Harry was desperately trying to get free and for the first time in a long time he let his tears run unchecked down his cheeks as he pushed and kicked and punched with all the strength and energy he had in him. He wanted the man to get off of him! He was so heavy!

"You always were a feisty one Harry, always so passionate. You stand out in the crowd with your red lips," Here the man gave the terrified and hysterical six year old boy a bruising kiss grinning manically as he pulled away, clamping his hand back down on Harry's mouth when he saw the boy taking a deep breath in order to scream. "your pale white skin and glowing emerald eyes." Here the man drew back a bit and glared down at the boy beneath him, "You have always had this superiority in your eyes when you look at everyone around you, as if you believe you are better than we are. Well, I'm here to show you freak, that you're nothing. No one wants you. No one cares. You're worthless besides a good fuck."

The man's hand batted away the small arms pushing against his hands grinning lustfully at the sight of the frenzied, terror driven futile defences of a six year old boy.

Harry could hardly get a breath around the pressure of the man's hand around his mouth and nose and his vision was hopelessly blurry because of his tears. He could feel Mr Shields's free hand pawing him excitedly, telling him what a slut he was and how much he liked it, but he didn't! He didn't want this!

"You're good for nothing but a body to be fucked boy remember that." Mr Shields sneered in his face his dark eyes glinting savagely.

Suddenly it was like everything stilled and held its breath for the barest of moments and then Harry's eyes were glowing; an eerie green fire raging within like a flaming inferno.

"What the Fuck?" Mr Shields exclaimed and then those emotionless eyes were locking on the disgusting, lustful creature plastered against Harry's body.

He wanted him _off_!

Mr Sheilds was lifted by an invisible force and flung against the concrete wall on the opposite side of the room.

"What's going on in here...?" Raven Nadine demanded as she swept into the room and stopped dead at the sight before her.

Hadrian was completely naked, shivering in the corner of the room while radiant emerald orbs, swirling with power, pierced the figure of Mr Shields.

"He's a freak! An abomination!" The man screamed shrilly before he let out an ear-splitting howl of fear and pain, his body jerking harshly at odd angles as invisible fists beat him mercilessly.

Quickly piecing together what had happened Raven's violet eyes darkened in rage and a lazy black aura began sweeping from her tall figure. Gliding across the room the shadows enveloped the young boy she already held great affection for in protective, soothing darkness. As Hadrian disappeared into the cacoon of darkness the attack on the man opposite her began to fade until he finally fell to the floor in agony, sobbing pathetically against the cold stone.

"W-what are you?" The man spat through the pain of multiple broken ribs and muscles which felt as if they were on fire; the pain was so bad.

Raven smiled viciously and her silky voice sent the man's heart beating wildly. This woman was dangerous. "Unfortunately, I will not be your executioner tonight Mr Shields, I imagine that Harry will want the pleasure for himself one day..."she mused out loud while the pitiful man stared at her in growing horror, "however, I will leave you with two parting gifts to remember us by. I wouldn't want you to forget the actions that led to your death."

"P-please, the boy...Harry...he was just confused. H-he wanted to...he...please, don't h-hurt me!" The man finally wailed.

"Crucio!"Raven snarled at the man, her eyes shooting fire at the pathetic coward screaming his vocal chords to shreds as he writhed on the floor in indescribable pain. Muggle filth, he was weak and bitter, preying on the children in his care because they were the only ones weaker than he. Their suffering and hysterical terror giving him a powerful high as he brutally dominated them.

She lifted the unforgivable torture curse with great reluctance and watched the man moan incoherently for a moment before she smiled darkly.

"And now for my gift." She whispered.

Raven pointed her wand at the man and without an ounce of guilt cast a ruthless and extremely illegal dark curse on the defenceless muggle. He would relive his worst nightmare every night for the rest of his life, wasting away in everlasting torment unable to get a moments peace. Without pause she swiftly castrated him, her expression unchanging except for the smirk as she enjoyed his screams of suffering.

Nobody hurt her son.

She would have liked to have done more but she knew that Hadrian needed her more.

Taking a hesitant step towards the impenetrable darkness she recalled her magic slowly and watched as the small boy gradually become visible.

"Hadrian?" She called softly and with a flick of her wand he was clothed again.

Raven had noted with relief, soon after she figured out what the man had attempted to do, that the rape had not been completed and she thanked Darkness for that small mercy. No, the small, wretched man hadn't been able to actually rape Hadrian...he just did everything else, she thought grimly.

Scooping up the tiny body she whispered gently into his ear, "Come Hadrian. Let us leave this place."

Those narrowed, shining green eyes assessed her for a long moment judging her sincerity and worth intensely before dimming. Hadrian turned in her arms and pressed his forehead to the muscle on her shoulder, hiding his silent tears from the world. Raven ran a knobbly hand tenderly through his ink black hair and wrapping her arms more securely around the child. She didn't spare the weeping, moaning creature across the room another glance before apparating out of that hell hole holding tight to her precious child.

* * *

Hey all! hope you liked it and if you didn't please tell me why I love constructive critisism, drop a review and tell me what you thought K? :) That would be awesome and totally make my day!


	3. It Hardly Seems Fair

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

The man sighed in pleasure as he lay on his back with unhidden satisfaction.

His lover lay next to him, his breathing hard, his velvety smooth skin damped from their recent activity. He practically purred at the delicious sight, turning to his side and propping his arms to support his head as he gazed pleasingly over him.

Bright emerald eyes flickered, catching his lustful inspection and lips stretched into a smirk before the man gracefully rose from the bed to find his discarded clothes lying on the elegant carpet. He watched him with awe, enjoying the magnificent view of his naked body displayed before him. As he watched his lover slowly dress himself, he climbed out of the bed and circled arms around the beautiful man's waist.

"Do you really have to go back to Hogwarts today, Hadrian?" he spoke in a velvety voice filled with innuendo as he placing a teasing hand against the man's chest.

Hadrian grimaced at the man's attempt to show him affection and broke the contact of the arms around him easily.

"You know I do. I was only given permission to leave the castle for the weekend; there is still a month of sixth year left." He answered calmly to the put out expression on the normally stoic face of his companion.

The blonde male snorted at the idea of Hadrian asking permission to do anything and with his normal pureblood grace sat back onto the dark red love seat.

"And what excuse did you deceive your Professors with this time?"He drawled.

The black haired man shot him an amused look, "The best lies, Mr Dalton, are those with a sprinkling of truth in them. I merely told Professor Snape that my guardian had requested my presence at a gathering, of sorts." Hadrian smirked, his eyes twinkling with pleasure. "It is not my fault that the Head of Slytherin views me so far below his notice that he merely granted my request in order to get rid of me faster."

The blonde shook his head in confusion, a small frown creasing his brow. "I do not understand why you do not act as yourself at Hogwarts, Hadrian; there are real connections to be made within that house. I am always…surprised when you speak of it."

Hadrian shrugged, pulling on his shirt as he spoke, "Raven has made sure that I know how to play politics, Gabriel. I have many allies and connections in the higher echelons of wizarding society outside of Britain. I have told you many times before that I wish my existence and influence in the hierarchies hidden and only known by a select few that I trust."

"They have no idea who you are or what you are capable of, Hadrian," Gabriel spoke softly, his intelligence and lust shining brightly in ice-blue eyes, "It hardly seems fair." He smirked.

"I have to keep a low profile, Gabriel. I can't be noticed. It would wreck everything." He murmured softly.

"And you still refuse to explain it to me, don't you?" The blonde muttered and Hadrian stayed silent, pretending not to have heard.

Gabriel dropped the subject and just let the silence stretch as his lover moved fluidly and silently through the room, unhurriedly gathering his belongings, oblivious to the internal battle being fought within his blonde companion.

Finally, when Hadrian had finished dressing, Gabriel's emotions won out against his normally cold-hearted logic and he spoke.

"When will I see you again?" He exerted all of his considerable acting skills to make sure the question was voiced as indifferently as possible.

Cold swept through his limbs and dread started his heart pounding when the black haired man immediately stilled and turned to face him.

He shouldn't have said anything.

Emerald eyes were sharp as they picked apart the other's impeccable mask like the master he was, they narrowed in displeasure at what he found.

Without a word, Hadrian crossed the room to pick up his last article of clothing, an expensive black cloak. And, with a sense of rising panic, the blonde man realised Hadrian he was clearly ending their time together.

"…Hadrian!" The man hated how all his control had disappeared but…"please…don't _do_ this."

Hadrian sighed and let go of the brass handle of the door to face the man.

"Gabriel, this was not part of our deal." And the blonde winced at the absolute control the man held. It was one of the things that had attracted him to the wizard from the first, that confidence, assurance and deadly grace.

Gabriel swallowed thickly and nodded once. He remembered all too well, no attachments.

They had known each other for years but it was just this last summer that their relationship had progressed. Hadrian had told him he wasn't looking for a relationship and he had accepted that but…he…he had fallen in love with the man. He loved everything about him, if that was even possible without sounding ridiculously romantic. His dark beauty, sharp mind and brilliance had entirely captivated him.

"It doesn't have to end, Hadrian." He whispered pleadingly as he looked into those unique, verdant orbs.

Hadrian stared at the beautiful man pleading with him, eyes shining with love and hope, for a long moment. Watching silently as the flames of the fire danced interestingly across the blonde's sharp cheekbones.

He swiftly crossed the room, watching the hope rise in the man's eyes before they dimmed at the regret floating in his emerald. Hadrian took the man's face into his hands giving him a gentle, tender kiss before slowly pulling back and looking him in the eye.

"...Yes it does, Gabe. You're one of my closest friends and I now realise I shouldn't have initiated this." He held up a hand to stop Gabriel when he opened his mouth to protest, "No Gabe, I shouldn't have." Hadrian stroked the smooth pale cheek and smiled sadly, "because I knew that you would be hurt if you developed feelings for me, when I knew I wouldn't be able to return them."

Gabriel drew in a shuddering breath his heart breaking.

Clenching his eyes shut against the guilt, Hadrian pressed their foreheads closer together so they were breathing in the same air. He hadn't ever wanted to hurt his friend. "Please…forgive me." He whispered.

The blonde smiled shakily before forcing himself to control his expression. He was a powerful, handsome and influential pureblood heir to one of the most important Dark families in France.

He was known to be ruthless, charming, cunning and highly intelligent. He was respected for his control and how well he played the game of politics.

But Hadrian…he filled his lungs slowly, carefully constructing his mask layer by painful layer.

"There is nothing to forgive, Hadrian." He murmured softly. "You told me at the beginning of Summer how you felt...It is not your fault." His voice shook a little, but on a whole it was relatively controlled, as he held his now 'former' lover close wanting to prolong their contact for as long as possible.

Hadrian let the normally commanding and intimidating wizard in his arms clutch him tightly, knowing he owed his friend this at least, when it seemed Gabriel had gained control of himself once again, he gently broke their embrace.

"Go. You wouldn't want to be late for your first class." Hadrian smiled at the familiar silky arrogance in that voice before nodding silently and gliding to the door, knowing his friend needed time alone to compose himself.

Shutting one of the white double doors with a soft click, Hadrian leaned back against the heavy wood, letting the regret wash over him. He hated that he was the reason Gabe was now in pain.

Suppressing a growl of annoyance, Hadrian pushed off the door and swiftly made his way to one of the smaller sitting rooms in the manor. Shutting the entrance behind him, he withdrew his wand and starting effortlessly reconstructing his mask.

Tapping his wand to the tiny rune on his left bicep, Hadrian felt himself shrink from the respectable height of 5'10 to a short 5'6. He also knew that his lean, yet, muscular body had disappeared to be replaced by spindly arms and legs lacking any physical power.

Whispering an incantation to give his glowing white skin a greyish hue, Hadrian then charmed his eyes so that they were a dim green and his hair a dark brown instead of the silky ink black.

Taking a moment to glance at his wrist watch, Hadrian quickly stepped into the fireplace and spoke the name of his destination.

"Professor Severus Snape's quarters."

Hadrian felt the fire spit him out and forced his body to tumble clumsily to the ground.

Among many qualities that his Hogwarts persona lacked, was grace. Hadrian heard several sniggers of laughter and a disgusted curse from behind him, before he was being hauled roughly to his feet by harsh hands clutching the back of his Hogwarts robes. He gave a practiced whimper of surprise and pain at the contact and aggressively clamped down on his bubbling temper.

He did not feel like doing this right now, not after what he had just found out. Nevertheless, the shock didn't affect him enough to disrupt his complex persona, he knew his part well.

"You're such a coward, Walker." Blaise Zabini sneered, from where he was gracefully lounging across a black couch.

Hadrian purposefully shrank back from the wizard, acting submissive and pitiful, waiting until he heard Zabini laugh mockingly before slyly glancing up through his dank brown fringe to watch each person's reaction and their expressions.

Greengrass was shooting Blaise an unimpressed, look so indifferent to him that she soon took to studying her nails in boredom. Malfoy just curled his lips in disgust at the spineless actions, before looking back down at his Transfiguration homework. Professor Snape grimaced, the familiar sneer of dislike giving evidence to his lack of understanding on how someone like him had ever been sorted into Slytherin House.

No other words or insults were verbalised, before Snape was opening his portrait hole and throwing Hadrian out into the stone corridor. The loud 'bang' of its forceful shutting, exposing the owner's vexation.

Brushing himself off, Hadrian walked calmly towards the Great Hall to get some breakfast before his first class.

Really, if Zabini and Malfoy didn't get so much pleasure out of tormenting him, he would be totally invisible in the castle.

His grades were always below average, he was very careful about that, always coming in seventh, sixth or fifth last, never any other place. His appearance was nothing to look at and his spineless behaviour engendered no empathy for him and, consequently, no one interested enough to get to know him.

It was perfect. After graduation if, by some miracle, he came up in conversation he would be the boy nobody remembered the name of.

Raising a hand to hide his smirk, he pretended to scratch his upper lip as he walked through the large doors of the Great Hall, shuffling his way to the Slytherin table. After all, he couldn't be too clumsy, that would attract attention.

Reaching for the scrambled eggs, Hadrian spied the pitcher of pumpkin juice right beside him and shrugged mentally, what the hell?

The sound of Pansy Parkinson's outraged scream, as the liquid somehow ended up spilling on only her, stayed with him for days.

Life continued rather monotonously for the next three weeks. His exams were done; the students were ignoring him even more than normal with excitement for the holidays on their minds and he was…bored.

Hadrian groaned into his charms textbook. He understood the importance of his façade. He understood only too well, Raven had made sure of that.

However, that didn't stop his bored mind and magic from crawling the walls; looking for something to do. It had been half-way through his second year in Hogwarts that the boredom had finally become unbearable. The newness of the castle, and the attention he constantly needed to exert to keep his mask intact in his first year, had been enough to keep him occupied, but in second…he winced just thinking about how stir crazy he'd been.

Raven nearly throttled him several times when he came home for winter break that year, letting out all the pent up emotions he had built up but had to forcibly repress during school.

It had been his own idea to study more magic in order to stretch himself as he desperately needed to. But it had been Raven who had found a way of making that happen.

She gave him for Christmas that year, a small box which could transport objects instantaneously through its twin. So, from then on, Hadrian would send a list of books he wanted to Raven at the beginning of each fortnight and she would dutifully have them waiting for him at the every Saturday morning.

As a result, he was far more advanced than his peers, ridiculously far, and it was starting to get to him.

"Hey! shut-up will you, some of us are trying to work." And, of course, there was also the boy who lived to annoy one Hadrian Walker.

The boy was about 6'0 with garish, curly orange hair and blue brown eyes which were remarkably similar to the unattractive colour of Cornish pixies when they were covered in mud. Still, Hadrian grudgingly admitted to himself that the boy was somewhat handsome.

From what he had heard, both his parents were very attractive people so it was understandable their son didn't look like an ogre.

"Sorry." He apologized meekly and watched with satisfaction as the boy turned around again, dismissing Hadrian entirely.

Hadrian took the opportunity to think, for the thousandth time it seemed, on his unnatural hatred for the Boy-Who-Lived; Landon Potter.

The boy had never really paid attention to him, except for that broken arm in fourth year when the boy had knocked his weak body to the ground as he was running frantically through the halls of Hogwarts.

Hadrian sneered to himself. The boy just rubbed him the wrong way with his inflated head and over exaggerated feeling of self worth, but…he looked at the boy again before glancing away and packing up his books, he couldn't dismiss that the boy was a powerful wizard.

The next morning at breakfast, the familiar sight of Raven's owl swept down in front of him and Hadrian quickly took the letter. Skilfully angling it in such a way, that in the unlikely event that another student tried to read the contents, they would be unable to.

_My Darling Hadrian,_

_If you would not be adverse to the idea, I was thinking of spending the holidays in Copenhagen, what do you think? We, of course, do have that standing invitation of Demetri's to come at anytime that we have yet to take advantage of, but I think I would prefer the Nadine Manor in any case. _

_I have heard mutterings recently…and they are getting louder. I have a feeling we will both need this vacation to see us through the coming year, my son. _

_Come straight to Denmark, Hadrian. The sooner the better._

_Your loving mother,_

_Raven_

Hadrian discreetly swept his eyes along the table and, finding no one paying him the slightest amount of attention, silently set the parchment on fire.

Her words unsettled him.

Taking his goblet into his hand, he narrowed his eyes on the whispering forms of the older Slytherins in contemplation. Yes, there was something going on.

Swirling the orange liquid absently, Hadrian thought on his Slytherin peers. Dull green eyes narrowed slightly and his jaw clenched as a thought occurred to him. His classmates were finally at an age and 'apparent' maturity to begin to be introduced into the cutthroat, volatile and dangerous European pureblood arena.

Hadrian rose from his seat in such a way which wouldn't draw attention and swiftly exited the hall. They had better hope, for their sake, that their parents would protect them this coming Summer.

He grinned darkly, his mask's uninteresting green eyes brightening for just a moment, before dimming again as the glamour held.

The Slytherin elite would quickly find that their superiority in Britain didn't carry over when faced with the cream of France, Germany, Russia and Spain, among others. They would have to prove their worth and power just as their parents had.

Raven must know something, he decided. Denmark was one of the less active political countries in Europe, easier to disguise any ripples that could conceivably draw attention to them. Arriving at the entrance hole, he quickly spoke the password to the common room and stalked inside.

Hadrian had been very careful to stay away from the British, pureblood elite these last few years. He didn't want anyone sniffing around in his past. His friends knew not to mention him and he trusted them to keep their silence.

As long as no other variables or shocks occurred from here on out, Hadrian was confident in that his two personas; his mask and his real character would stay divided and secret.

….

Hadrian glared down at the crumbled form of Landon Potter from his place within the shadows.

Dumbledore, Snape and Gryffindor's Head of House were all clustered around the boy's form.

In fact, despite seemingly the whole school being out on the Quidittch Field looking at the bloody and battered form of their saviour in shock, confusion and fear, he was still able to hear what the boy-who-lived was screaming.

"He's back! He's _back_! Voldemort! I fought him! Voldemort's back!"

Hadrian's eyes widened in shock and his mind began racing frantically.

He sneered and turned away from the scene of sceptical students, excited slytherins and fearful Professors, disappearing into the dungeons.

So, the Dark Lord had returned.

Brilliant green eyes glowed in the darkness as the glamour around his eyes shattered.

That could be a problem.

….

Hadrian walked down the train, intent on finding those he sought. They were only an hour outside of London and he would be damned if he didn't get all the information about the Dark Lord's return before then.

With Voldemort's resurrection many of his secrets and manipulations could easily come to light. No doubt the man would move quickly and silently to gather old allies and he would start recruiting heavily. With the stupidity of Britian's Ministry denying his return, the Dark Lord would have time to find his feet. And Hadrian knew, one of the first things he would do was learn all that had changed since he had been gone.

The Dark Lord would be a fool if he didn't go to Moscow this summer, to the heart of the dark wizarding world, in order to re-establish his influence.

It wouldn't be very hard for the man. From what Raven had told him, Voldemort was brilliant and a master.

No, he would quickly assume complete control, use this summer to strengthen old alliances and learn the new powerful players so he could start his plans and schemes for the war that was coming.

Hadrian grimaced. He had kept his actions in the pureblood games to a minimum over the years, but he had no doubt his name would come up in conversation.

While not much was known of him, he was still _known_, an enigma.

His mind and thoughts hadn't stopped racing for two days.

His Slytherin classmates, he had known, might hear of him in passing this summer, but they didn't have the power to dig into his past and uncover his secrets.

But the Dark Lord was something else.

Voldemort had the necessary intelligence, power and resources to swiftly amass any and all information known about him. And if the man was as good as rumoured, and he had a sinking feeling that he was, the last thing he wanted was to somehow pique the wizard's interest.

Hadrian breathed deeply willing his heart to slow. He could only hope that the Dark Lord decided that he was beneath his notice and glanced over him...otherwise...things might become extremely tricky for him.

There. The Mudblood; Hermione Granger, had just walked into the compartment three doors from where he stood and where one third of the Golden Trio was seen, the other two were inevitably close by. She hadn't closed the door yet, but could at any moment, making his task infinitely more difficult.

Quickly, he glanced around and, seeing no students, tapped his wand to the top of his head, casting an advanced invisibility charm on himself.

Appreciating his persona's short stature for the first time that he could remember, Hadrian ducked under her arm and glided to a spot as far away from the three Gryffindors as possible.

He watched closely as the bushy haired girl closed the door to the compartment, raising an eyebrow at the advanced locking and privacy charms she cast. They were definitely beyond seventh year level, he recognised and could cast them all himself, of course, but he wondered where the Mudblood had learnt about them.

Hadrian snapped back to attention when Weasley spoke.

"Alright Landon, tell us what happened."

Potter inhaled deeply, smiling at Granger gratefully when she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Hadrian's expression contorted, feeling nauseous at having to witness the tender, loving moment.

"Remember, we're here for you." Granger said forcefully and Hadrian glared at the girl in abhorrence. He had never been able to stand the know-it-all, bookworm.

"I know." Potter smiled weakly.

"Yeah, mate, you know that we'll always be on your side, no matter what." Ronald grinned goofily, while Hadrian glared at the three, annoyed that he was being forced to listen through this self-help, motivating, Gryffindor crap.

"It was the Snitch; they'd turned the Snitch into a Portkey. I was out practising Quidditch by myself..."

"Oh, Landon, you should know better..."

"Hermione, not right now." Ron interrupted the Mudblood's spiel, while Hadrian closed his eyes, begging for patience.

_Sweet Darkness_, one would think they were being tortured for information with the painstakingly slow speed this was going.

"Guys, just let me get it out okay?" Potter's two sidekicks nodded quickly in understanding, "When I caught the Snitch it transported me to this...graveyard,"

A graveyard? How ironic.

"And..._Wormtail_," The boy was practically spitting in anger, "the same rat that sold us out to Voldemort," ah, that explains it, "h-he took my blood and some of Voldemort's Father's bone and...and Pettigrew he...he cut off his own hand!"

Rolling his eyes at the pathetically traumatised Potter, Hadrian's thoughts swirled knowing that he'd read something like that...working quickly, his mind jumped from fact to concept to knowledge in a heartbeat before his eyes widened and his mouth stretched into a large grin. Blood of the father, blood of the enemy forcibly taken and blood of an ally freely given, Hadrian couldn't help but be impressed, it was very nicely done.

Potter swallowed, "Then Voldemort appeared out of the cauldron." He whispered, his eyes dark, remembering the horror of watching it. "He used Wormtail's Dark Mark to call the other Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy was there, Roberto Greengrass, Crabbe and Goyle Senior...there was more, about twenty. He called them his inner circle," Potter gave a strangled laugh. "said his most loyal were missing though, and something about him rectifying that...I don't know."

The three teen's shared anxious looks before Potter frowned slightly remembering something, "He was...he was almost _charming_ though...I know, it's ridiculous! We were in a fucking graveyard for Merlin's sake! But...he wasn't what I expected." He ended on a whisper.

Hadrian narrowed his eyes at the boy.

"What do you mean?" Granger asked, confused.

Potter ran a hand through his red curls, "I don't know...he was everything they say he was; manipulative, cruel, sadistic, conniving, brilliant! In a scary way..." Potter sighed, "But he was also...intoxicating." Potter looked disgusted by his own words.

Hadrian felt an overwhelming urge to strangle the boy when he became silent, lost in thought, with a confused expression decorating his face.

_Of course_ the man was intoxicating! How'd the boy-wonder think the Dark Lord had gathered so many loyal followers? By cursing them all into submission? The man was a brilliant manipulator and politician. He would have had to have been extremely charismatic and charming, besides overwhelmingly powerful, to have the allies and influence he had.

To think, the Light was resting all their hopes on _this_ brilliant wizard.

Ronald looked revolted by his best friend's confused description, but Granger just nodded knowingly.

"There are rumours that say he was a seducer..." she spoke quietly and there was a fearful weariness in her eyes as she spoke that interested him, "they say... if the Dark Lord set his sights on you," she was having a lot of trouble getting her words out, Hadrian cocked his head to the side as he contemplated the witch with a growing suspicion, "if he wanted you as a follower, it didn't matter what your beliefs were before that...because you would ultimately become his p-property."

She was terrified that it would happen to her; Hadrian comprehended with sick amusement, his eyes brightening in glee. Oh, the Mudblood had no reason for that particular fear. Despite how important she saw herself, there were many other witches and wizards more gifted than her.

Still, the knowledge he now possessed might be useful, in the future. It was certainly interesting.

He left the compartment, as easily as he had come, stepping fluidly out onto the Platform through the cover of the train's steam.

Hadrian watched the Potter boy rush towards his parents and Godfather, taking special note of the 'guards' which immediately surrounded the group.

Catching sight of the famed auror, Alastor Moody, his eyes widened and he quickly melted into a group of fifth years Hufflepuffs. Damn. If Dumbledore was going to have that pain in the arse around he would need to update the enchantments he had on himself. Moody wouldn't be able to see past the rune's affects but the glamour's, while advanced, would not hold up against his magical eye.

The horde of Gryffindors left swiftly through the barrier, Hadrian's eyes staying locked on their forms until the last one disappeared into the muggle word. Only then, did he allow himself to slowly step out of the protective shadows.

He should be going. Turning sharply, he shrunk his school things, pocketing them and began navigating his way through the students and out of the barrier.

Ducking into a familiar corner obscured from view, Hadrian nicked his finger and drew a small rune onto his wand. He grinned in pleasure, as he felt the ward the ministry used to detect underage magic fall.

Without pause, be disapparated with a silent pop, thinking of the elegant Nadine manor in Copenhagen.

...

Hadrian gasped in pain as he collided with the heavy oak writing desk...that most definitely was _not _meant to be there!

Rubbing his ribs gently, he rose from the expensive carpet and stalked out of the room in search of his guardian.

"Raven!" he growled dangerously at the woman sitting in a comfortable, brown leather seat in the manor's formal living room. "Why do you feel the need to rearrange all of my furniture every time I'm away? Is that really the biggest thrill of your year?"

So he was crabby.

She smiled sheepishly, "I'm sorry, dear. Do sit do and have a drink. You look like you need one."

He huffed, before nodding agreement. He turned towards the opposite chair only to find that it was...occupied.

"Hadrian." Demetri bowed his head in greeting, a smirk on his lips.

"Oh, could this week get any worse?" Hadrian groaned and instead sat down gracefully onto the cream coloured couch in between the two.

Raven tsked at her son's rudeness, but Demetri spoke up first.

"I admit, that was not the enthusiastic greeting I was looking for, but do not worry, I am not offended." The tall, handsome brunette grinned with black, laughing eyes.

"Yes," Hadrian drawled at the man, "because I was so worried about that in the first place."

Raven watched her son with affectionate eyes before she frowned, "Hadrian, please remove the enchantments on yourself they are beginning to hurt my sensitive eyes."

He grinned at the woman and her well known discrimination's against unattractive people.

"Of course, Raven." He allowed the cadence and smoothness of his real voice to be heard as he swiftly took down the complicated disguise.

"Ah, much better, my child." She hummed and Demetri nodded his agreement.

"So, what brings you here, Demetri?" Hadrian stretched languidly, enjoying the feel of being in his own body again.

Raven smirked at the Russian wizard as his eyes glazed over at the seductive sight her son made, watching with amusement as he cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the pleasing sight.

He sighed, running a hand through his brown locks."I've been called to Moscow." Demetri said softly, looking into the brilliant emerald eyes of his close friend.

"I expected as much. The man _is_ quick." Hadrian smirked slightly, feeling impressed despite the disadvantage to him.

"What of Gabriel? I would be surprised if he was not among the first to be called." Raven spoke up.

"I do not know. Dalton has been quiet for the last month."

Raven listened closely before looking at her son, Hadrian had spent his last night before he had had to go back to Hogwarts with the wizard after-all.

Hadrian ignored the expectant look he could feel trained on him, what had happened between Gabriel and himself was strictly between the two of them, no one else.

"I expect he will have also received a request for his presence, by now." Hadrian said and Demetri eyed his friend speculatively, before nodding in agreement.

"...How long?" Demetri asked, his voice tight, hiding the anxiety and worry he felt for his friend.

Hadrian stared into the fire for several moments before he answered, his voice soft and withdrawn, lost in his own thoughts. "...if the man's as good as I think he is...not long."

Raven narrowed her violet eyes in thought.

There was no doubt in her mind that the Dark Lord would want her child, in fact, she saw Voldemort's interest in him as inevitable.

But, if her suspicions about his parentage were correct, Hadrian's recruitment would place him in a very precarious position.

Unfortunately, all they could do was wait.

Wait, until the Dark Lord came knocking.

Hey all! I hope you liked it; it was mainly an informative chapter and one which set the scene. I'm tossing up between showing the proceedings in Moscow from Voldemort's or one of the sixth year Slytherins perspective, or even one of Harry's friends, what do you think? Any preferences?

Anyhow, I'd be really grateful if you could just drop a review and tell me what you thought of the chapter!


	4. Sweet Darkness

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Thanks for all the awesome reviews!

* * *

Demetri kept his face impassive as he glanced up at the Rookwood's impressive estate from his somewhat secluded spot in the shadows of the dark green conifers. It was dark and the ball had started an hour ago. He knew that he shouldn't have been late but he had wanted to talk with Hadrian for as long as possible. Although the surrounding forest was dark and somewhat sinister the light spilling out from the numerous long narrow windows reflected off the snow in the large courtyard providing more than enough light for him to make his way across without any difficulty. He could hear the buzz of voices and plentiful conversation filter across the chilly air and quickened his pace not liking how exposed he felt as he made his way through the large entrance doors.

"C-can I take your coat Sir?"

Demetri looked down at the sound of the squeaky, fearful elf and sneered in distaste, he could never understand how Hadrian abided the little rodents.

Without a word he merely tossed his expensive, black woollen trench coat at the thing, not caring that it swayed dangerously at the unexpected weight before sweeping off.

He gilded into the room and quickly surveyed the scene. A few hundred wizards and witches, all dressed in rich expensive clothes, were mingling and dancing, some sitting down at the provided small tables and eating while others spoke in quiet tones, faces expressionless, swirling crystal glasses filled with alcohol.

It was all very pleasant.

Demetri smirked, or so it seemed.

With little effort he managed to locate his little sister amongst the crowd and began to make his way towards her picking up some of the conversation before he chose to interrupt.

"So none of you have ever been to Moscow before?" The sweet, soft voice of his sister floated over him as she questioned her companions.

"Well, we've been to Russia before, of course, we all have family properties here but we have never really...interacted with others." The boy with sharp, angular features and pale blonde hair seemed to answer for the group of children as his beautiful sister raised her eyebrows in surprise opening her mouth to question further before he smoothly interrupted.

"Good Evening Marionette. I apologise for my lateness but the reason was...unavoidable." Demetri spoke softly yet his silky words were easily discernable. At the sound of his voice the petite girl with long, mahogany hair spun around beaming, embracing him in a quick hug that even all her pureblood manners could not suppress.

"Demetri, I was beginning to think you would not be coming." Her tone was teasing but he saw the relief in her dark blue eyes easily enough. A summons such as his family had received could not be ignored without severe consequences. He bent to kiss her pale cheek in loving reassurance successfully melting her fears before turning back to look at their curious and annoyed companions.

"Perhaps introductions are in order," He spoke smoothly standing tall and confident. "I am Demetri Cartus, Heir to the Noble family of Cartus. Marionette is my sister."

Daphne Greengrass was the first to find her voice and composure, the swift shift of the man from loving brother to a cool, calculating individual had startled them all.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Demetri, this is..." she started to gesture to her right to begin introductions herself but that hard voice and cool eyes interrupted her.

"...I would prefer it if you referred to me as Mr Cartus, if you please."

Daphne only felt confusion for a moment and then the mortification hit her. She had forgotten, unless given permission to use another's first name one is never allowed to assume such easy familiarity. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment over her social bungling but managed to pull herself together enough to offer a soft apology before continuing introductions.

"...this, to my right, is Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy and I am Daphne Greengrass."

Demetri felt a wave of curiosity and dislike at the familiar names. Hadrian had only mentioned them and their incompetency in passing but it had been enough for him to ascertain his friend's active distaste for the people. That was enough for his already unimpressed examination of the five to sink further. However, he had never met anyone that had interacted with Hadrian's mask before...and _that _caught his attention.

Now, though, wasn't the time to indulge. He had much more pressing concerns and worries.

"Charmed, I'm sure." Demetri drawled watching with amusement at the irritated twitch of the blonde's eyebrow. Placing a hand on the small of Marionette's back, against the blue velvet dress, he began pushing her away from the group, "I hope you enjoy Moscow," he grinned wickedly, "It should certainly be an experience for you." With that he and an unprotesting Marionette melted into the sea of people and away from the inexperienced and somewhat befuddled Slytherin adolescents.

"What the hell was that?" Blaise muttered heatedly. He had not liked Mr Cartus at all.

"Oh, Blaise, don't think anything of it. I'm sure the man has people he must greet and converse with...after-all the Cartus family might not be as wealthy or politically influential as some but they are well known to produce very intelligent and talented witches and wizards. Not to mention, they are some of the world's greatest wand crafters." Theodore Nott explained patiently, although he got the feeling that while that very well may be true the man had also wanted to escape _their _presence.

"This isn't what I expected." Daphne said softly and the others turned to her with quizzical looks. "I didn't take the warnings Father gave me seriously. I thought he was just being...being...oh, I don't know." The black haired witch gave up in frustration letting her dark green eyes wander around the ball room taking in the seemingly innocent conversations frustrated by knowing that nearly all of them worked beneath the surface or hid competitive aggression but...she couldn't see it. And for the first time that bothered her.

* * *

"Demetri," Marionette whispered harshly as they flittered through the bodies, "you had better have a good reason for your lateness."

He chuckled lowly. "That I do. I was speaking with Hadrian."

Marionette's dark sapphire eyes sparked in anger at the name and her back stiffened. "That was the reason you were late?! For him?!" She barely managed to keep her outraged cry from escaping and she glared at her brother when he sent her a disapproving look. "I can't believe you sometimes, brother. Honestly, you would think that the current events would have been a priority to you, including our family's security but no," she drawled sarcastically ignoring the warning in her brother's eyes, "Hadrian, that _pathetic_ nothing is more important to you!"

Demetri kept his cool. Her jealous words and cruel perspective when it came to Hadrian was nothing new to him. As much as he loved and treasured his sister he was not blind to her faults. She liked being the centre of attention. She was beautiful with her long brown hair, deep sapphire eyes, pale flawless skin and petite stature. She was likeable and basked in the positive attention she received wherever she went. Marionette knew that she brought together some of nature's finest qualities; beauty, intelligence, sense, skill and talent.

Demetri sighed at the vindictive and immature side of her that came out when Hadrian Walker was even mentioned. She, of course, had at first been excited to meet her brother's friend, one he held in such high regard, but then he stepped into the room...

He was more charming than she could ever hope to be, more alluring, more exotic, more intelligent, more talented. The only thing Marionette was better at than her peer, as they were both the same age, was pureblood etiquette and politics. But Madame Nadine had made sure Hadrian quickly closed and far surpassed her talent.

Unfortunately, Marionette had never been second to anyone and she became a virtual harpy whenever Walker was in the same room.

"Marionette..." Demetri's tone was a warning but she paid it no heed.

"...So what did the little prince want _this_ time? A priceless artefact? Sensitive information? After-all, we all must bow to the superior being that is Hadrian Walker." Her voice was venomous, spitting mad that the little twerp had been the reason Demetri had been late. Didn't the little horror know that her brother could have been in serious danger if his association with him was ever found out?!

"Now, now, Marionette, your horns are showing," A sweet, husky feminine voice floated over the pair startling them from their intense glaring.

"J-Jade," Marionette stuttered laying a calming hand to her chest, "you startled me."

"Evidently." The redhead smirked, giving a curt nod to Demetri which he returned without hesitation all the while cursing himself for not silencing his sister beforehand. "I would caution you cousin, to temper your words and opinions, especially while in public."

Marionette wiped her face of all emotion but inside she was scowling, "I was not aware that you were in any way concerned with Walker Jade." Her voice was frosty.

Black eyes gleamed at her wickedly from amongst a mass of wide red curls, "I am very fond of the boy but I hold a greater affection for you Marionette, I was merely suggesting caution." The beautiful brunette nodded in understanding but was inwardly happy to know that her second cousin preferred her. Not many did. She sneered.

Demetri grew bored of the sentimentalities quickly and decided to see what his cousin had discovered, "Tell me Jade, do you know if the esteemed issuer of our invitation to attend tonight is here presently?"

The tall girl frowned slightly, "No, he isn't here. You would know if he was."

Demetri accepted that easily. A Dark Lord would tend to stand out in a crowd, but he had wanted confirmation.

"Be cautious, cousin, around the English purebloods. Word is, they have already been brought back into the man's fold and pass any interesting information they hear onto him." Jade warned.

Demetri waved her concern aside. One would have to be a fool not to have assumed as much. In addition to Britain being the Dark Lord's home country it was also the most powerful magical country in the world and, ironically, the most 'Light'.

"He won't come tonight." Demetri murmured, gaining the attention of the two girls. "This gathering has light wizards and ministry politicians mingling with us, the obvious power brokers. His followers will observe tonight, looking for potential talent for recruitment and any dark sympathisers." He narrowed his eyes on a group of giggling girls across the room in speculation. "The 'invitation' was for the entire Summer correct?"

Jade nodded.

He breathed deeply, "He'll observe first. Gather information before he shows himself. I predict that these balls will become smaller and smaller in numbers as he slowly weeds out the weak." Demetri straightened. "Then he will show himself..."

Looking up Demetri locked gazes with familiar golden brown eyes. "...and he will demand our loyalty." He whispered.

* * *

Brilliant crimson eyes took in the bowed and silent figures of his inner circle as he raised the crystal tumbler to his lips and took a sip of the amber liquid.

"Lucius?..."

Lucius couldn't stop the shiver that ran up his spine as that dark, seductive voice floated over him. Whether it was from desire or fear he didn't know. Taking the break in the silence to mean he could straighten from his bow Lucius raised his eyes and once again felt his breath catch in his chest.

The man was darkness incarnate. The shadows in the room clung to the Dark Lord's tall, graceful form, simple but expensive black robes not hiding the lean body. Sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw were framed by straight, black hair which just touched the man's shoulders. But if one had the courage to look into those blood red eyes it was impossible to not feel awe in the man's presence.

"My Lord," Lucius Malfoy refused to stutter in the man's overwhelming company, he was a prideful being, yet, one which knew when to acknowledge his superiors. "The Light's domination over the new generation of witches and wizards is not as wide spread as I had feared. Many conversations discussing the rumours of your return were approached logically and the benefits of following your regime were highlighted. Of course, the known Dark family's were aware of the truth of your return and were generally cautious with their words and interested in gathering their own information." He fell silent as he finished speaking watching as the Dark Lord took a moment to take another sip of whisky, thinking on the words, before gesturing for one of the others to go ahead, repeating the process till all had spoken their own opinion.

Lucius couldn't help the slight widening of his eyes when he heard Lord Zabini talk of the absence of the Dalton's. It was worrisome and strange. The French family had ties with the Malfoy's several generations back, their history and power even surpassing his family's. He noted that the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed slightly at the information a spark of annoyance lighting in the crimson.

"Anything else?" The man demanded. No one spoke. "Nott! Do you have them?" The man's voice was irritated as if he were tired of them but Nott quickly stepped forward uncovering numerous maps as he moved forwards and the Dark Lord's lips curled in pleasure as he took the plans.

Azkaban.

The Dark Lord looked down at them with a cruel smirk on his lips and dark excitement dancing in his eyes.

"I do hope none of your duelling skills have deteriorated over the years gentlemen, for your sake's."

* * *

Julian leant against the wall, sneering at any person that came close to him as he observed the new selection of people chosen for this party.

Gone were the staunch Light supporters and weak ministry fools. This group, he felt, was a possibility.

"Hello Demetri."

He heard the soft chuckle behind him and raised a hand to run through his long sandy blonde locks tilting his head slightly to look at his companion.

"I decided after two weeks, that I would have to be the one that approached you."

"I do not enjoy these things." Julian sighed.

"No, I don't imagine they would entice you."

He narrowed his eyes on the tall man beside him not knowing exactly how that comment was meant to be taken.

"Have they approached you?" Demetri asked.

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Crouch, you?"

"Malfoy."

Julian grinned at the grumbled response, "Better you than me. The smug git can't stand the sight of me."

"Have you talked to Dalton?"

Julian threw his friend a look, "Why are you asking? You've never cared for Gabriel before?"

Demetri nodded at the truth of the words before speaking, "Correct, however, it is not like him to be absent from these types of events."

Julian's mouth twisted into a pained sort of look, "I think something happened between him and Hadrian."

Demetri couldn't stop his jaw from dropping in an uncharacteristic display of shock. He quickly stepped in front of golden-brown eyes instead of beside to give at least some privacy to their conversation.

"You talk as if that something were romantic." His voice was void of all emotion.

"Do you have any other answer to Hadrian's evasiveness whenever Gabriel is mentioned? Or the way Gab has seemed to have dropped off the planet?!" His muttered harshly unable to control his emotions. "Sweet Darkness Demetri, Gabriel is ignoring the summons of the fucking Dark Lord!"

Both their faces were slightly pink with trying to keep their furious, forceful words quiet.

Demetri shook his head, refusing to believe it, "Julian, that's ridiculous. We all find Hadrian attractive, you'd have to be blind, deaf and numb not to! But he doesn't _do_ relationships. You know that. And Dalton is too much of a play-boy to settle down into a monogamous relationship! Which you _know_ Hadrian would demand if he ever was with someone!"

Julian took a deep breath and opened his mouth to retort, "Yeah? Then how do you explain..." his words trailed off and his previously flushed face drained of colour his eyes locked with something over the others shoulder.

Demetri just had time to spin around and look up as silence engulfed the enormous space before he felt it.

Dark, ominous, intrusive...cruel, he tried desperately to keep his composure as the powerful aura brushed invasively against his own, setting his teeth on edge and effectively cowering his own dark magic. Demetri felt disgusted by himself. Sneering, he forced himself to straighten from the subservient position his body had naturally taken when the magic finally passed him. Nevertheless, the tingle in his limbs and the slight trembling of his hands confirmed the truth of how easily his magic had been dominated.

The truth of its inferiority.

Julian watched as a tall figure in black robes ascended the small dais, his body moving with a gracefulness and fluidity designed to catch the eye. It wasn't until the figure had stopped that a pale hand with long fingers reached up and casually brought down his hood.

Julian's eyes widened as his eyes swept the flawless, dark, masculine features. He breathed a shaky breath. The man was _gorgeous!_

Demetri, in comparison, noted the handsome face with a blank face and cautious mind which reminded him that the Dark Lord would use all the arsenals available to him and his appearance was one of them. The only thing which betrayed the affect the Dark Lord had on the young man was his racing heart.

"Good Evening." Voldemort smirked down at the speechless crowd of the world's finest wizards and witches. Most of the mass, those not totally enthralled with the seductive face and magic of the Dark Lord, seemed to flinch back as the man allowed more of his darkness and cruelty to bleed into his aura. "Please, continue." With that he turned to a small group of people which had followed him into the room.

Slowly, chatter began to once again pick up but many never truly relaxed, hyper-aware of the Dark Lord's presence.

"So...that's him." Julian said quietly.

Demetri merely nodded, his eyes not moving away from the figure.

"What do you think?"

"I think...Hadrian was correct." He murmured softly.

* * *

Lord Voldemort let his eyes skip among the guests as his companions spoke around him. He felt like grinning and stretching his muscles like a cat. He hadn't done this in so long. The mind games, the politics, the double-talk.

He loved it.

He was a master at it.

And he had new prey who hardy knew what they would soon be facing.

He smirked.

* * *

"Again!"

Hadrian threw the woman an exasperated look but she just grinned cheekily in a way that said 'you know you love me'.

Shaking his head he pointed his wand at the dummy opposite him and proceeded to silently cast the Dark Arts spell to disembowel someone. The fabric ripped and a little white stuffing came out but that was about it.

"No, no, no, no." Raven repeated as she stood from her stool and gracefully walked forward the blue robes she wore swaying to and fro as she walked toward him. "Hadrian. We are, contrary to what you may believe, practising the Dark Arts. _Dark_, being the key word here. You have to mean it." With that serious statement she turned swiftly and cast the curse with her own wand. The second dummy's stomach ripped open violently the white stuffing flying into the air with the force behind the spell.

Hadrian exhaled noisily, annoyed at himself.

"Is anything bothering you Hadrian? It hasn't taken you this long to master a curse since you were nine."

"It's nothing." He dismissed, flopping down on the ground with his sore legs out in front of him, leaning back onto his arms for support.

Raven clucked in disapproval at his undignified actions before conjuring a comfortable chair and sitting down opposite him.

Both of them sat in comfortable silence, Raven; patiently waiting until her son was ready to talk and Hadrian; gathering his troubled thoughts.

"Did you know?" He finally spoke, his voice soft.

"Gabriel?" Raven's guessed gently.

Hadrian nodded standing up and leaning against the wall instead as he stared at his guardian… waiting.

"Did I know that Gabriel had fallen in love with you?"

Hadrian let his head fall back against the wall closing his eyes in frustration.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He whispered.

"…And ruin the chance that you might learn to return his affections?"

Hadrian slowly opened his eyes and looked down in slight shock.

"…What?"

Raven's face crinkled in that familiar way as she smiled at him sadly. "Young Mr Dalton is an exceptionally gifted individual Hadrian; he is dark, intelligent, handsome, charming, manipulative…"

"…are you sure _you're_ not in love with him Raven" Harry drawled dryly unable to hold his tongue.

She continued on like she hadn't heard him knowing it was one of her son's coping mechanisms, to make light of something.

"I didn't tell you, because I thought that there was a very good chance that you might fall in love with Gabriel, Hadrian." Raven said earnestly a sad look in her eyes as she watched the way her son went rigid at her words and quickly pushed himself off the wall.

Wiping his face of all emotion he turned sharply and headed in the direction of the Dining Hall.

He heard a tired sigh from beside him and glanced to see Raven keeping up with his fast pace easily, "My child, this is one lesson from me you were never able to master," she stopped him by laying a gentle hand on his forearm and tenderly cupping his face with the other so he was forced to look into her unique violet eyes. "Loving is not the weakness Hadrian." She smiled brilliantly, "It is only a weakness if you choose the wrong person."

"…I hurt him Raven." Harry whispered.

"Yes." She agreed quietly, "but you can never feel guilty about being unable to love someone my son. That is beyond your control."

"He hasn't been to Moscow. Julian told me." Hadrian said his dazzling emerald eyes worried.

Raven sighed before a chain Hadrian was wearing caught her attention and she reached a hand forward. She smiled.

"I haven't seen you wear this for nearly two years." She said. Hadrian grimaced at his sentimentality. "The portkey to its twin still works?" She asked.

Hadrian nodded. Raven eyed him for a moment and with utmost innocence phrased her next question.

"And does Gabriel still wear his?"

"Yes, he never takes it off…" Hadrian's eyes widened at his slip up and he looked at Raven only to see her fighting a grin. Finally the old woman gave in and started laughing heartily.

"Oh, _my_ son, _my son_, has lost his virginity! And let me see…you started seeing Gabriel last summer so…a year! Well, that _is_ something to celebrate." She crowed.

Hadrian rolled his eyes at her before walking into the dining room, just before he crossed the threshold he glanced back at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Just so you know Raven," his guardian stopped laughing and faced him with a grin, "I didn't lose my virginity to Gabriel."

With a smirk he walked out the door.

"Hadrian! Hadrian you little fiend, how _dare_ you keep something like that from your mother! Get back here." Raven's voice, totally lacking any pure blooded decorum echoed through the house as Hadrian chuckled and thanked the house elf as she placed her master's favourite breakfast in front of him.

* * *

Lord Voldemort glided down the halls only catching the end of what sounded like a very interesting conversation with the German Minister of Magic.

"...no, no. That is what I am saying Roberto. I had thought that I would see the young man in Moscow for sure. Especially with the goings on but he seems to be keeping very quiet. It is a shame. The man always does liven things up around here." Kale Lustag laughed at his own words but the German wizard fell silent abruptly when he noticed the Dark Lord standing in the open doorway.

Lord Voldemort swept into the room conjuring a glass of cognac as he went and settled gracefully into the blood red leather armchair by the hot coals of the fire. He smiled silkily at the obese Minister speaking. "Please, Minister Lustag, don't mind me, tell us more about this wizard."

The balding man stuttered a bit looking around the large sitting room with up to ten other Death Eaters before gaining some confidence, "Well, not much is known about Walker. He happened upon the political stage a few years ago. His family, parents, siblings, ancestry...none is really known. But you just have to look at the boy to know he's something special. They all gravitate towards him," Voldemort forced himself to nod politely. "His friends are all very interesting. Demetri Cartus, of course, a very talented wizard, sharp as a knife that one. Then there's Julian Cliffton, a bit rough around the edges but someone you'd want on your side in a fight, heard he's a natural in the Dark Arts." Interesting, Voldemort mentally catalogued all of the names, "Then there's Astrid Beaumont, oh, very beautiful and witty, a charming lady. And none other than Gabriel Dalton...my, that wizard is gifted and not one you'd want to idly tango with, a brutal dueller, very imaginative ..."

"Is that so?" He drawled. The boy had better hope, for his sake, that he was as useful and talented as he was being made out to be. One does not ignore a Dark Lord and get away with it.

Minister Lustag spluttered a bit, it annoyed him but his mind was occupied by the intriguing puzzle presented to him.

"My Lord," Lucius spoke, "I have heard of this Walker before but I have been unable to ascertain anything beyond that his first name is Hadrian, he has yet to graduate school and he is British by birth."

Voldemort's eye brows rose in surprise. That Lucius Malfoy had been unable to gather any other information was...interesting.

He narrowed crimson eyes on the glowing coals in the hearth; perhaps drawing this Hadrian Walker out into the open was the motivation the Dalton's needed to make an appearance. The arrogance and presumption of that family was irritating him.

Something to think about.

"Rookwood." He called quietly.

A nearby figure immediately came forward. "Yes, My Lord?"

"Find out everything you can on our mysterious wizard."

"Of course, My Lord." The man bowed and began to walk away before the soft voice of his Master stopped him.

"You have one week Rookwood."

* * *

_Dear Mr Dalton,_

_My Master can not help but start to think you are avoiding him. Three messages, all unanswered, you can see where he might start to get the idea. Some of My Lord's associates took the liberty the other day to speak to your friends Mr Cartus and Mr Cliffton, according to both they have not heard from you. _

_I would advise Mr Dalton, for you to consider a trip to Moscow in the very near future. It might do you and Hadrian Walker some good._

_Cassius Zabini_

Gabriel crumpled the expensive parchment in his fist and threw it violently into the blazing hearth.

Fucking vultures.

Grasping his hair painfully in his two fists the blonde breathed heavily as the minutes ticked by and his temper cooled. Finally, he was able to stretch out on the red love seat staring unseeingly up at the ceiling.

...

Sigh.

"Tippy." He called softly.

With a crack the elf appeared.

"Master?"

"Tippy, please pack my bags. Warm clothes and alert the elves at the estate in Russia of my imminent arrival." His voice croaked from disuse but the elf nodded in understanding opening it's mouth to ask a question before hesitating.

He sighed, "What is it Tippy?"

"When will Master be wanting to go?"

...

"M-master?"

Ice-blue eyes hardened as he pulled himself from his pathetic brooding and started towards the shower

"...An hour... I have a private dinner to attend there tonight."

* * *

Hey! I really hoped you guys liked it and thanks so much for the awesome _awesome_ reviews!

Are you liking it? Not liking it?

And don't worry to any who are. Voldemort is DARK in this fic. I tried to make sure that his fact got across(please tell me if I succeeded or not!) but I also had to keep in mind that Voldemort has just been resurrected a month ago and is still finding out what has changed in the world. Don't worry next chapter he's going to kick ass! :]

Please, please, please drop a review and tell me what you thought of it! :]


	5. the man was Black

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

You guys are all so awesome and I think I've now replied to you all! Hope you like it J

* * *

"Draco, darling, be a dear and tell one of the house elves to straighten the large painting in the third floor corridor, won't you?" Narcissa Malfoy asked hurriedly as she passed the door of the library, already half way down the hallway by the time her son looked up and nodded. Her sixteen, soon to be seventeen year old child, closed the dusty tome in his lap with a snap and stalked out of the room to find one of those blasted rodents.

Narcissa Malfoy had been beside herself the entire day. Her husband had informed her only that morning that an intimate dinner for the Dark Lord, his inner circle and some guests would be held at the Malfoy estate that very night. The veritable army of servant elves had been furiously scrubbing every surface in the manor with boiling hot soapy water not caring about the blisters on their hands and feet, much more worried about the punishment they would no doubt receive if they didn't finish their work to the impeccable standards of the Malfoy Mistress.

"Dobby!" Draco barked catching sight of the creature, "The painting on the third floor of the West wing, straighten it."

"Y-yes, young Master Draco." The elf barely managed to get the words out, his voice sounding more like a hiccup than anything else.

Draco sneered as he watched the green midget disappear with a crack. Turning his neck he looked at the large antique clock on the wall.

5:00.

They would be here soon. Dinner started at six.

Draco shook his head trying to dispel his nerves but it was no use. The inner circle and the...Dark Lord would be here tonight and unlike previous occasions the crowds of people wouldn't be there to temper the conversation and keep the dangerous wizards and witches attention from becoming too focused. They were not a foolish bunch of people, they were continuously trying to get one-up on one another. Any weakness, any secret you didn't want known, would be brutally used against you without a shred of remorse.

He had once asked his Father why the Dark Lord permitted such...aggression amongst his ranks. His Father had locked ice cold grey eyes on him and said that the Dark Lord did not tolerate weakness and if one could not survive the violent, sadistic competition amongst his followers they did not deserve to be there. So, the Heir of Slytherin watched the petty but lethal squabbles among grown witches and wizards with dark amusement, quietly noting the victors and those who had been utterly humiliated.

The young Malfoy heir walked stiffly back towards the library and the book he had been trying to read in a failed attempt to keep his mind off tonight.

....................................................................................................................(FLASHBACK).........................

_"Narcissa?" Lucius's clear voice had his wife glancing up from her breakfast and looking at him in question. _

_"Yes Lucius?"_

_It was all very formal._

_"The Dark Lord has decided that he would like to dine here this evening." His tone was light but the serious look in his eyes informed her how little choice they had. One just didn't refuse a Dark Lord._

_Narcissa had been born a Black and knew how carefully one must tread around their Master better than most. There was reason the half-blood Tom Riddle was held in such high regard by the Black family. _

_"Of course." She answered smoothly after a few seconds pause and her husband nodded to her approvingly, "I will have the elves clean out the ball room immediately."_

_Just as she went to call, Lucius interrupted._

_"No Cissa. It will be a dinner...an intimate dinner." _

_Her light blue eyes widened marginally before she could control her surprise but she had herself under control quickly enough. _

_Draco was another matter._

_"A dinner?!" he echoed loudly and, ignoring the disapproving looks of his Mother, frowned in thought. "...How many?" he asked quietly, the choice to lower his voice wise, if the look his Father was giving him meant anything. _

_Lucius raised his tea and took a long sip, taking the time to place the tea cup back down and dab his mouth with a linen napkin before answering his impatient teenager. _

_"The Dark Lord, of course, and most of the inner circle," he shot Narcissa a look as she mentally calculated numbers waiting for her nod before continuing. "And...some guests." _

_"Who?"Draco demanded, the healthy redness in his cheeks was no more, instead, it had transformed into a chalky white._

_"How many Lucius?" Narcissa pressed._

_The Malfoy Lord leaned back in his chair, "The Ministers of Magic for both Germany and Russia as well as Russia's Head of Security. France's Head of Law enforcement as well as their International affairs Minister. Invitations have also been sent out to the Lords of six important Dark families in Europe."_

_Narcissa Malfoy raised her eyebrows at the names; impressed. "That is quite a gathering." She smiled to herself, stomach fluttering in excitement. Lucius sent her a mocking smirk but she just sent her own right back at him having easily detected his own exhilaration for the event. _

_Real progress was being made. Right in front them. And they were both honoured to be able to witness it._

_Draco, in comparison, was staring at his Mother's and Father's smirking faces with a slack jaw, his belly curling in apprehension. _

_"And, the Dark Lord also said that he wanted to invite a Julian Cliffton." Lucius added dismissively. He had never heard of the family before so he paid it no mind. Besides, he had a theory about why the insignificant wizard was being asked to attend. _

_It should be interesting, watching his Master play. _

_It always was, when you weren't the victim._

_"Are any of my friends coming?" Draco asked._

_Lucius shot Draco a stern look. He had reminded his heir time and time again that one did not make '_friends', _they made alliances. He was just about to open his mouth and reprimand the boy but the feel of his wife's cool hand on his forearm stopped him._

_"Mr Zabini and Miss Greengrass will, no doubt; be attending." She smiled affectionately at her son. With skill she saw his hidden relief and her eyes watched him intently as he excused himself from the room._

_"You coddle the boy Cissa." Lucius spoke in an unusually gruff voice but she just chuckled softly and pecked him on the lips._

_"Ah, but you have just given yourself a reason for my actions. Draco is still a child." _

_"...He won't survive in the ranks unless he grows up Narcissa, you know this." Lucius stated seriously._

_All humour left her and she nodded reluctantly, "The price we pay, I suppose." She said. Silence floated between them for a few moments before she spoke again. "Let him observe tonight. Watch the dynamics of the Death Eaters. The different ways the Dark Lord effortlessly changes his approach and persona as he reels the politicians and Dark families in. I believe...that it will open his eyes, not all the way, but it will give him an idea of how the world works beyond what his limited experiences have shown him."_

_Lucius nodded slowly in agreement seeing the wisdom in his wife's words. She quickly excused herself already calling orders right and left as she shut the door behind her._

_He brought a hand up to his chin rubbing at the smooth skin, lost in his thoughts. Draco would be shown another, more devious side of his Master's mind tonight. He ginned viciously. The young Dalton will either show up tonight; knowing that he will face the consequences of his actions. Or he will hide, in which case, nothing will save him. _

* * *

Draco stood stiffly beside his Mother and Father in the marble entrance hall, waiting to personally greet each of the guests as they came through the door. As subtly as he could he began to roll his shoulders as his Father greeted the French Head of International Affairs. These robes were so stiff! He was used to formal wear, he'd grown up with it, and so he usually wasn't bothered by the restricting garments. But these things were something else. He felt like he was wrapped up in a stifling cacoon of material which, in reality, was supposed to be long and elegant. Long and elegant his arse, he snorted, just another way of saying they were bloody heavy!

"Problems, Mr Malfoy?" An amused voice drawled from above him. His eyes widened and he quickly stopped his fidgeting.

"No Sir." He said politely.

The man, he had no idea the name of, merely smirked knowingly and walked through to the sitting room where the party would be having pre-dinner drinks.

"I see you've met our Minister."

Draco glared at the laughing black eyes of a man who had quickly come to annoy him and breathed deeply before speaking, "Good Evening Mr Cartus, if you will proceed through those doors drinks and conversation await you." His practised response came out sullen and petulant despite his best efforts and his ears reddened when the Demetri let out a faint chuckle not loud enough for any but Draco to hear.

"Thank-you for your...hospitality." Then the tall brunette was following the Russian Minister's path along with his sister and Father, soon disappearing from view.

"Hey." He turned around and almost sighed with relief. A friendly face!

He nodded his head once, as was protocol, but let a little warmth seep into his eyes before Daphne too, faded from view.

He looked around and saw that most of the people his Father had mentioned were coming had already been greeted by at least one of them. Naturally, his Father and Mother had many more pleasantries to exchange then his measly three.

The Dark Lord was already inside; he had arrived half an hour before and had just been reclining on the lounge in the large sitting room slowly sipping whisky while staring into the fire. He wouldn't even know that much but he had been terribly curious and peeked inside. Immediately, crimson eyes locked on him and he yelped quietly before apologising profusely while backing away from the door. Draco would have been staggered by the man's seemingly relaxed posture if he hadn't caught sight of him absently stroking his wand; his ruby eyes alight with thousands of different thoughts. No. The man was _thinking. _And Draco had enough sense to know that it made him infinitely more dangerous.

The delighted voice of his Father caught his attention and ripped him out of his disturbing thoughts. He turned to look at Lucius, curious as to what had changed his Father's emotions so drastically. His eyes widened as he took in the man standing completely alone yet looking totally at ease in the enormous marble foyer.

His hair was blonde. Not white blonde like his but the golden kind and it hung in a low ponytail to the middle of his back. Ice-blue eyes swirling with intelligence and coldness stared at the three Malfoy's cuttingly.

He was incredibly handsome. A tall man, probably 6'0 or just above it, Draco could tell his body was muscular but slim. His clothes were clearly top of the line, complimentary yet deceptively casual. Underneath a high collared navy blue cloak that fell to the floor he wore a tight, blood red, satin shirt and simple black trousers.

Draco could readily admit his attraction, the man was cold but not ice like his Father. He was clearly comfortable in himself, confident, and the young Malfoy could sense his dark magic.

"Mr Dalton," Lucius let a wide smile spread across his lips his own grey eyes sparkling with anticipation for the pleasure to come. "So pleased you could make it."

Draco started. _This_ man, _this_ was Gabriel Dalton?!

The man had an overwhelming reputation. His parents were murdered when he was only fourteen and the boy had had to fend off the voracious attempts of countless numbers of wizards and witches desperate to get their hands on the Dalton fortune and inheritance. How the man accomplished such a thing was beyond Draco but it had earned him the respect and wariness of the Dark families.

Mr Dalton smiled thinly at his Father very deliberately taking his time as he removed his gloves, before he answered. It was a very clear message and one Draco could appreciate the skill of. Dalton hadn't been here more than five minutes, hadn't said a word in fact, and he was plainly telling his Father that he did not feel cowed by either the Malfoy Lord or his precarious situation.

"How could I not make an appearance after such a pleading note?" Dalton replied, boldly looking Lucius straight in the eye.

Draco saw his Mother's eyes flicker with admiration and respect and Draco couldn't help the flicker of jealously. This man, only two years older than him, had effectively silenced his Father and gained the notoriously hard earned esteem of his Mother.

"Mr Dalton." A dangerous silken voice drifted across the wide open space. They all spun; startled, none of them had sensed anyone's approach. "...Join us."

The Dark Lord was leaning casually against the dark wooden frame of the door eyeing the proceedings with an emotionless face; nevertheless, Draco couldn't stop his wince as he saw the menacing anger in those crimson eyes as they locked on Gabriel Dalton. Malfoy had no idea how the man managed it but Dalton simply nodded once and walked forward, the only sign that he was affected by the terrifying sight the Dark Lord made, as he stared down the young Lord, the slight trembling of his hands.

The three Malfoy's quickly followed.

Lord Voldemort shut the door.

...

Gabriel entered the room, stiffening as he passed by the Dark Lord hoping he wouldn't get a curse in the back.

Voldemort chuckled softly at his behaviour as if he knew exactly what he was thinking.

Unwilling to respond, he continued further into the room nodding silently to those who acknowledged him. That basically meant everyone there but the Death Eaters. He came to a stop beside a motionless Julian knowing that even though those golden brown eyes didn't once look at him they had, nevertheless, followed all his movements from the moment he entered the tense room.

"I didn't know if you'd show."

He resisted the urge to sneer at Cartus as the wizard gave him a pointed look; instead, he kept his features impassive.

"I was busy."

Demetri made a scornful sound in the back of his throat, "I'm sure." His words were _dripping _with sarcasm.

Feeling especially vindictive Gabriel turned towards Cartus with a small smirk, watching in satisfaction as those black eyes hardened in suspicion, before he turned to the attractive brunette sitting beside her brother. "Marionette," He smiled at the girl at the same time he reached to bring her pale hand to his lips, kissing the smooth skin lightly. "You look lovely tonight, as always. Have you enjoyed the last few weeks in Moscow?"

The woman blushed deeply at the attention. Gabriel Dalton was well-known for being able to charm any person that struck his fancy, male or female, into his bed and she couldn't help the sting that thought brought her. The impressive blonde before her had captured her affections when she was just fourteen years old. She had been hiding in the corridor outside when Walker had introduced the French man to her brother.

"Thank-you very much Mr Dalton and yes, I have enjoyed it." She spoke as elegantly as she could manage feeling embarrassed at how jumpy she was around him.

Gabriel, for his part, made some sort of noncommittal reply not having heard her response. His thoughts would not be silenced. He had snubbed and disregarded not one but two summons by the Dark Lord and he would be punished for it. He absently noted Julian's huff of annoyance from beside him but paid it no mind, his ice-blue eyes did not stray from where the Dark Lord talked conversationally with his guests.

...

Blaise Zabini had been sneaking glances at the Dalton heir ever since Draco has whispered to him who the man was. Turning back to look at the glass of red wine in his hands he raised it to his lips and swallowed the substantial amount in one go before setting it on the glass table in front of him and standing.

"Where are going?" Daphne frowned.

"I'm going to introduce myself." He declared before promptly leaving without waiting for a response.

He walked purposefully toward the small group of four coming to a stop in front of them and thrusting his hand out in front of him.

"Hello, I'm Blaise Zabini."

Gabriel frowned when his path of vision to the Dark Lord was suddenly blocked and let his eyes descend taking in the offered hand dispassionately but doing nothing to reciprocate the gesture. He was surprised the boy in front of him had the gall to ignore protocol so deliberately. It was not inspiring.

"Gabriel Dalton." He returned coldly ignoring the limb; instead, he took a small step to the right, immediately seeking out the figure of the most dangerous person he had ever met.

Blaise let his hand drop awkwardly to his side not knowing what to say. The three males in front of him paid him no attention and he suddenly felt very much like a five year old that was being dismissed and not allowed to play with the older children because he was uninteresting and immature. Demetri Cartus he didn't like, the man had a quick and cutting tongue along with a superiority that put his teeth on edge. Julian Cliffton he thought unrefined. The man was shorter than he was, only standing at 5'7 and though pleasant looking was still rather plain. Gabriel Dalton though was a different matter, he put the fairly handsome Russian, Cartus, to shame and he was powerful if the rumours were to be believed. But where Cliffton opened disliked him and Cartus always held a superiority about him, Dalton's behaviour told Blaise that the blonde thought him so far beneath his notice that a like or dislike, any opinion on him at all! Would take more thought than he was worth.

The courage his consumption of alcohol had given him fled quickly and he shuffled away, not that any of the wizards noticed beyond an acknowledgment of the absence of his distraction.

"Dinner is served; Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats." Narcissa Malfoy spoke softly but with the help of a nifty spell everyone in the room heard her as if she were right beside them.

Gabriel couldn't slow his heart throughout all of dinner. More than once he could feel the burning gaze of the Dark Lord; it took all of his self control to hold an intelligent conversation with France's Head of Law enforcement. This waiting was killing him, his dread and anxiety increasing as he had more and more time to think on what would come once the Dark Lord's guests left. It occurred to him that Lord Voldemort invited him to the dinner before hand for that very reason, to let him stew in his dreadful anticipation. Looking at the man, at how effortlessly he controlled all conversations around him while observing seemingly everyone, he genuinely believed him capable of purposefully doing just that.

"We have all been asked to stay after dinner."

Gabriel barely turned his head to acknowledge Julian's whisper but the grip on his dinner fork tightened considerably.

"...And who is 'we'?" He made sure his voice was casual as his left hand reached for the goblet of red wine in front of him.

"Demetri, Marionette and I,...and the Slytherin adolescents." Julian murmured.

Gabriel fought a frown. Why would the Dark Lord allow children and the others to witness what would happen to him unless...his eyes widened in horrified understanding and he whipped his head around to stare at his friend, aghast.

"...Hadrian." He breathed.

Julian nodded reluctantly, having come to the same conclusion.

"Do you think he knows?" Demetri muttered urgently under his breath from his place at the other side of the table. His own Dark eyes were calculating and Gabriel violently pushed his own shock aside.

The others had had all night to deal with this revelation.

The forbidding sound of chairs scraping against the marble floor as the guests decided to make their departure had him breathing deeply, trying, in vain, to slow his racing pulse.

He had minutes.

Feeling that burning stare he looked up and met mocking crimson.

"...He knows enough."

* * *

Demetri stood, alone and erect, his hands clasped behind him. They were all back in the room they had been using before dinner, some of the considerably smaller party were standing against walls or bedside chairs while the rest were spotted around the room. Whether it was done purposefully or not, he didn't know, but he was intensely aware of the fact that he was surrounded and completely at their mercy...or more correctly, the Dark Lord's mercy.

Voldemort was sitting in a simple black arm chair watching the room with mild interest, his posture relaxed and elegant. All were silent as the Dark Lord twirled his wand in his hand taking his time before deigning to speak. Gabriel couldn't escape the slight lust he felt when he looked upon Lord Voldemort, the Dark magic wafting off of him in waves was...extremely seductive.

Ruby eyes suddenly locked with his ice-blue and it was all he could do to keep his mask intact.

The man was a force to be reckoned with.

"Mr Dalton," Gabriel saw from the corner of his eye a number of the room's occupant's shudder in both fear and pleasure at the man's purr. "I was given the most...interesting information this evening, just before you arrived in fact. Can you guess what it may be about?"

Gabriel took a moment to steady his voice before replying, "No...My Lord."

"...Really?"The man's voice possessed a malevolent quality as he drew the word out painfully slowly.

Gabriel did not answer.

Voldemort gracefully rose from his chair; his movement's enticingly fluid as he glided across the space to the blonde.

"Nothing to say, Mr Dalton?" He mocked cruelly.

Still, Gabriel said nothing. It would not help him.

Voldemort reached out to run a finger across his cheek, his gentle touch so at odds with the maliciousness and excitement gleaming in his crimson eyes Gabriel was incapable of suppressing his wince.

The Dark Lord chuckled lightly at his reaction, no doubt pleased by his fear, before he pulled back, anger, for the first time, at the forefront of his emotions.

"I do not like liars Mr Dalton."

Gabriel clenched his jaw and braced his body knowing what would come next.

"Crucio." He observed the almost lazy flick of the Dark Lord's wand before pain enveloped him.

He was on fire!

He lost control of his body and collapsed to his knees.

His blood was boiling! His muscles were being torn apart! His nerves shredded in the most excruciating agony!

He screamed.

He couldn't stop it.

He had been through pain in his life but nothing like this.

Then the curse was lifted and the pain gone.

He gasped deeply unable to reconcile himself with the sudden absence of the pain. Slowly, his awareness came back and his pride and will forced him to his feet once again. He looked up at the mildly amused Dark Lord, the involuntary shuddering of his body decreasing as more time passed.

"Impressive," the word was taunting. "You must have marvellous self control to be able to stand on your own right now."

The Death Eater's hissed and laughed around him and he clenched his jaw in anger.

"Rookwood." Voldemort's soft call immediately silenced the jeers and a short, stout man stepped forward a cruel grin on his lips as he leered at him.

"My Lord." The man went to one knee in front of his Master before he was motioned to rise.

"Augustus, why don't you tell our guest what you have discovered? I'm sure he will not be the only one interested in what you have to say."

"Of course, My Lord." Rookwood bowed lowly before facing his audience. "I managed, not without effort, to uncover a very well kept secret this past week...some of you may have heard of an unknown and unpredictable player in European politics. Not much is known of him...I have spent the last week collecting snippets of information from different people. I quickly came to the conclusion that this particular individual wished to remain an enigma. Painstakingly, I managed to piece together this...mystery, for lack of a better term. Some people knew what he looked like, other's his disposition, and even rarer, there were those few that spoke of his influence behind the scenes."

Gabriel kept his face emotionless, constantly reminding himself that Hadrian was fully capable of looking after himself. But looking into those crimson eyes be couldn't stop the dread from rising as he listened.

"Continue Augustus." Lord Voldemort commanded quietly.

The short, repulsive man seemed to swell with self importance as he took in the intrigued, interested and engrossed looks of most of his colleagues.

"Yes, Master...this morning, my search for information lead me to a small town in Belgium where I had learned, from a witch acquainted with the man in question, that he often frequented. It was there...that the barman told me that the wizard was none other than the adopted son of...Raven Nadine." The man said the last name with relish watching the Death Eater's reaction's in excitement.

Exclamations of astonishment and anger reverberated around the room before the Dark Lord calmly lifted a hand and silence fell abruptly.

"As you can see Mr Dalton, your young friend has piqued my...interest." Ruby eyes flashed. "I wish to meet him." His tone was silky and conversational but his lips stretched into a predatory grin. "Now."

Gabriel blinked in confusion as those taunting, horrifying eyes stared at him expectantly.

"N-now?" It was first time he had stuttered in years. What was the man asking him to do? Floo Hadrian now? Send him an owl? Apparate? What?!

"Yes." The Dark Lord said as if the matter were quite simple.

He breathed slowly, "I'm not sure I quite understand you My Lord." He spoke bravely refusing to break eye contact and show weakness.

Voldemort chuckled darkly and leant forward. "Mr Dalton...you either get the boy here, now, or all three of your friends die. It is very simple."

His eyes widened in earth-shattering shock. It couldn't be!

But he knew it was. The pleased, cruel enjoyment in the Dark Lord's eyes held no bluff. The man would murder them without a second thought; it wouldn't bother him in the slightest.

Sweet Darkness, his hands fisted in realisation, _this_ was his punishment. Not the humiliation of being laughed and jeered at or even the pain of the Unforgiveable torture curse. The man knew that he would tell Hadrian as soon as he was able that his secret had been compromised. That he wouldn't betray him. But the two men behind him, and even Marionette to an extent, were the only people, besides Hadrian, that he trusted in this world.

He had two choices. To comply, and deliver Hadrian into a cruel entrapment; sacrificing his love's secret...or he chose to watch his friend's die.

He couldn't hold his stare with the heartless ruby eyes of the Dark Lord.

The man was...dark.

...Black.

He raised a shaking hand to the necklace around his neck. The same one he had forced Hadrian to promise to always wear in case he was ever in danger.

Lead settled on his lungs, his overwhelming guilt making the simple task of breathing feel beyond him.

He clasped the amulet tightly.

"...As you wish." He whispered brokenly.

He barely had time to witness the smug triumph on the man's face before the metal heated and a deafening crack resounded through the room.

Two figures, one covered in blood, hit the ground...hard.

* * *

Hey! And before you say it, I'm sorry for the cliff hanger! I honestly planned to have had some Hadrian/Voldemort interaction in this chapter but it was either stop here, or stop in the middle of their conversation. I picked the better of two evils, trust me.

Did you like it though? Voldemort darker? J

Please, I would love it if you could take the time to review and tell me what you thought! J


	6. Trouble with glamours

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Wow...I guess I did expect something like that but um...hopefully getting this update done so fast will appease you all.

Seriously, I know it was a cliff-hanger but the chapter had to end there. BYW I loved your reviews! You guys are really very good to me :]

* * *

"_You're a whore!" The tormenting whispers seemed deafening in the blackness._

"_...Stop!" He choked out through his sobs, pushing desperately at the invading hands._

_Loud, cruel laughs echoed eerily around him, high off his fear._

_Cold, greedy hands pawed at his skin. He cried out. They were everywhere! He couldn't stop them all!_

_He was defenceless. Weak._

"_You like it little Harry." His body was being crushed under the overwhelming weight above him._

"_You're hurting me!" He screamed batting his tiny fists at the faceless shadow, never actually hitting anything solid. _

_The insidious hands petted, caressed, and hit. _

_Laughing, mocking, taunting._

_No. Not again._

_His heart was pumping loudly. His breaths coming in ragged gasps. _

"_...You always were a __**pretty**__ one Harry." _

...

With a shuddering gasp Hadrian lurched upright. His brilliant verdant eyes wide and unseeing still caught in his dreams.

Reality slowly returned to him and the soft panting of his breathing quietened as he violently shoved the heavy bed covers from his body.

He ran a shaky hand through his black hair as he walked across the room towards the large bay window. The room wasn't completely dark, some of the moon's light filtered soothingly through the glass giving the space a subtle glow.

Hadrian crossed his arms in front of him staring out onto the small lake and gardens below.

By the Darkness, he thought he was rid of them.

He hadn't had nightmares about that incident for eight months now.

"Damn it." He cursed his voice barely louder than a whisper.

He hated how that memory haunted him. It felt like it was the last thing holding him back. From what, he had no idea, but it was a sentiment he could not shake.

"_Well, I'm here to show you freak, that you're nothing. No one wants you. No one cares. You're worthless besides a good fuck."_

Green eyes darkened as the words floated through his mind as they had done countless times before. He remembered every word Mr Shields had said to him that day, it was branded in his memory and that he would never escape.

He narrowed his eyes in sudden thought.

Abruptly, without warning, Hadrian spun on his heel and marched purposefully towards his closet.

Perhaps it was time to fulfil his promise.

Ripping open the doors, Hadrian reached inside and grabbed the first clothes he encountered; simple black jeans and a white t-shirt. Without pausing he stripped and changed clothes sitting down on his bed to lace up his dragon hide boots. He flicked his wand and a dark green leather jacket came soaring out of the deep closet which he caught deftly as he swept from the room.

He didn't bother waking Raven; he often disappeared for days on end and she wasn't one to stifle him with parental rules and curfews. The very idea was laughable. Their relationship, although very much Mother and son, was also a partnership of equals that respected each other. She didn't control him, she merely loved him.

It wasn't too cold when he got outside but Hadrian slipped his jacket on anyhow, liking the feel of the soft leather against his skin.

With a soft pop he disapparated picturing _his_ field with its small stone wall and the way the forest surrounded the constantly green grass. It wasn't raining when he arrived but he could feel the moisture in the air that told him it could at any moment.

He turned in a circle, slowly letting his eyes take in the space again. It looked a little different. The last time he'd been here was when he was twelve and he'd first learnt to apparate. Raven had told him to picture a place that he could see in his mind's eye with perfect clarity and this small parcel of land, in the middle of nowhere, was the most vivid image he possessed. From his much taller height his field looked much smaller but, he smiled softly...it felt the same. Safe, mystic and _his. _

He shook his head, frustrated at his obvious sentimentality and brought his thoughts back to why he was here. Excitement quickened his pulse and he began walking the haunting path back to Blackborne. It was another memory that he would never forget, he realised, as he ducked and swerved through the dense forest, never pausing, never hesitating. His erratic movements made no sense but he knew that this was the quickest way to the orphanage. As a child he had often only escaped the other children because of his acute familiarity with this forest. As soon as he passed the tree line he knew he was safe, quickly loosing and outpacing his pursuers. Unfortunately, the children soon learned that they had to catch him before he escaped into the woods and his eyes hardened as he recalled his fear every time they chased him, not knowing if they would or would not catch him this time.

He scowled darkly. It had been a vicious game of cat and mouse which he won as often as he would lose.

He was five minutes away.

He tapped his left bicep, not pausing, as his world slowly lowered along with his height and ignoring the way his suddenly weak muscles protested against the vigorous pace he set.

His real persona would only be a hindrance for this. He wanted to slip in unnoticed and, in case he was seen, he wanted to be as normal looking and unobtrusive as possible. He cast a simple glamour over his clothes, now appearing in ratty grey jeans and a navy blue jumper with muddy runners on his feet. No sense making work for himself. He hadn't yet mastered the obliviate charm and he would rather this went as smoothly as possible.

Dimming his eyes with the last charm of his mask he stepped out of the trees. His movements were sure, like a boy who knew where he was going, one who belonged here. He sneered; he had _never _belonged amongst this Muggle filth. Deliberately, he tripped twice on his way across the familiar cobblestone courtyard making sure it looked like he had caught himself just in time on both instances.

He walked through the rotting, wooden entrance doors. No one but the sleeping hall monitor was in sight. Confidently, he travelled down the stone corridors, the frigid air even colder than he remembered.

He stopped before a plain door reading the tarnished sign to himself. "Mr Shields's private rooms, exactly where I remembered they were." He muttered to himself. Really, all a person had to do was follow the only source of heat in the decrepit building and it would lead them straight here.

Hadrian silently cast the unlocking charm and entered the only room with a boiler. He remembered the day one of the older men a few towns over had donated a modest heater to the orphanage, appalled by the children's living standards. He, along with everyone else there, had stared at the small metal contraption in awe, the idea of being warm foreign. Mr Shields had slimily thanked the man and promptly commandeered the gift for his own personal rooms. The only reason Hadrian had known that that was where the priceless gift had ended up was from overhearing the weeping mutterings of the children that Mr Shields called to his bedroom at night.

The sight that greeted him as he locked and warded the room both pleased and disgusted him.

The man was a sight to behold. The curse Raven had cast on him was slowly wasting him away. Completely bald, the man's yellow teeth were now black and rotted; his eyes glassy and half insane from lack of sleep and the terrifying thoughts that refused to leave him. And yet, Hadrian noticed with anger the man's considerably bigger girth and the good furniture splattered around the room. Mr Shields's it seemed had been filching all of Blackborne's funding for his own personal use.

"Good Evening." He kept his voice level not letting any of his fury escape.

The man whipped around and stood from his chair his eyes half wild but Hadrian noted with pleasure that they still held awareness. This wouldn't be any fun if the man wasn't capable of understanding what was going on.

"Who are you? How did you get in here, you little fuck?! The door was locked!" He snarled spit dripping down his chin.

Hadrian stared at the pitiful man in front of him for a long moment. This muggle had been a large part of why Hadrian's first six years of life had been a living hell.

And now he was at his mercy.

After tonight, this ghost at least, would be laid to rest.

He smirked, but not before a little pay back.

"I'm surprised that you don't remember me Mr Shields. I would have thought my existence would be a bitter disappointment in your long string of conquests." Hadrian's voice was almost conversational and he enjoyed how it put the man on edge. He walked slowly around the room picking up random objects before placing them back down and continuing on.

Blackborne's caretaker did not move to stop him. He didn't know what it was but something told him the weak looking boy in front of him was...dangerous.

Mr Shields stared at the boy in rising fear. "...Who _are_ you boy?" He said his eyes clearer and more aware than they had been in years.

Glowing green eyes locked on him, "Guess."

Hadrian brought his wand down in a wide arc, slashing violently through the air. The man was lifted off the ground and slammed into the wall as multiple lacerations appeared all over his body and he screamed in pain.

Hadrian stalked over to the pathetic lump and bent over him grinning sinisterly, "Impressive, isn't it? Unfortunately, I can't take the credit for the ingenious invention but I do pride myself on finding the man's notes on the spell." He smirked. "Teacher's really shouldn't leave such sensitive information just laying around for anyone to find. Don't you agree, _sir._"

"Y-you FREAK!" The man shouted and, without warning, in a desperate attempt to inflict pain on his adversary punched Hadrian in the jaw.

Hadrian let his face stay turned away from the man breathing heavily through his rage before slowly straightening up. He couldn't believe that this muggle trash had managed to hurt him again. He was angrier at himself for not anticipating such a desperate act than the man for actually managing to land a punch.

Wheezing chuckles had him looking back down at the man.

"Not so...tough now, are you kid? Got too big for your boots, I think." Mr Shields managed to get out through the pain, his eyes mocking.

Hadrian touched his jaw gently, getting his anger under control. "On the contrary Mr Shields, you have merely managed to add to the pain you will suffer before I kill you."

The man's eyes widened in fear. "Now kid, wait a second, do you r-really want that on your conscience? Y-you won't kill me." He rushed through his words frantic to buy himself more time.

Hadrian shot the bone-breaking curse his left leg and waited until his wail of agony ended before he spoke. "I will kill you tonight Mr Shields...just like I promised."

Confusion first, then familiarity floated in those eyes. He watched as terrifying realisation dawned on those ugly features and the man lifted a shaking hand to point accusingly at him, "H-Hadrian Walker." He stuttered.

"Indeed." With two deft diffindo's the man was missing his right ear and foot.

"AHHHH! You bastard! You fucking _bastard!_" He howled his face slick with sweat and blood.

Hadrian shrugged. "It is very possible that that is correct." With a flourish he conjured a compact ball of air no bigger than the size of his fist and flung it towards the left side of the man's chest. "But it hardly matters to me."

Hadrian let the man recover his breath after he was done screaming. His left shoulder was destroyed, completely pulverized, and if he was correct three of his ribs were also cracked and broken.

"You always were a feisty one Walker." Shields panted miserably, his hoarse voice intent on hurting the boy with his words if he couldn't with his hands. "The way you stood there shivering, letting me run my hands up and down you without protest, you were such a little slut." The caretaker spat blood out and he grinned viciously at flaming green eyes. "You're a freak of nature. A nobody. No matter what you become or what you do, you will always have been that obedient little fuck that was begging me for it."

Hadrian roared in fury and grabbed the man by the collar hefting him up and slamming him against the stone wall. Shields screeched in pain.

"You know _nothing_ about me." Hadrian snarled ominously, loathing dripping from his eyes.

Shields laughed quietly to himself, breathing with difficulty, "...nobody will ever really want you boy. Your own parents couldn't stand the sight of you! You're an abomination." He rasped.

Hadrian just stood there for a moment and let those words pass through him. They had been his weakness as a child. He felt as if he were redundant. His existence, unwanted.

That fear had been holding him back.

He knew as soon as he had woken up from that nightmare tonight that he was ready to let that go forever. To stop living in the past and embrace the future. Something told him it was important that he release that fear now. Shields was nothing. He was insignificant and pathetic...and he couldn't influence him anymore.

"You're wrong." He murmured and let his grip loosen. "You're the one nobody will miss after tonight."

Shields stared into the hard emeralds and felt an all encompassing terror he hadn't experienced since that night ten years ago. Those mesmerising eyes held no regard for his life. He meant nothing.

Hadrian kept one hand on the man's collar as he pointed his wand between the man's eyes the killing curse on the tip of his tongue.

"P-please don't." Shields begged pitifully. He was afraid to die.

Hadrian simply stared at him taking in the honest terror. His control and will did not waver. "If I recall correctly Mr Shields, my protests that night did nothing to deter you. You know what they say, treat others as you would like to be treated, so, really, I'm just doing what I was taught." Hadrian finally let his Dark smirk stretch across his lips.

It would end here.

"Avada Ke..." He cut off abruptly and quickly looked down at his chest where the heat was emanating from. The necklace!

He barely had time to glance up in confusion only to realise with alarm that he was still holding Shields by the collar before he felt the jerk behind his navel and he was speeding off to Merlin knows where.

He slammed into the floor; the air pushed from his lungs. He gave a moment's thought to how this must look to Gabriel. The man beside him was drenched in his own blood and urine while he had nothing but a developing bruise on his chin. Thankfully, his friend wasn't squeamish about this sort of thing. If Julian had witnessed this though...Mother of Darkness the roof would be lifted.

"_My_...I see that I underestimated how entertaining this evening would be."

Hadrian froze for only a fraction of a second at the unfamiliar voice. About to rise gracefully to his feet; he caught himself at the last moment remembering what persona he was currently in. Instead, he stumbled upright as quickly as he could.

"Walker?!" He swung his eyes around in shock toward the incredulous exclamation.

No way.

It wasn't...possible.

Blaise _fucking_ Zabini was standing opposite him his eyes wide and disbelieving and his mouth agape.

"Wha..." This didn't make sense! Where was Gabriel?! What was going on?!

Then he tasted it.

The darkest, blackest magic he had ever felt, insidious, almost...ghosted over him, caressing his skin.

He drew in a shaking breath; it could only be....

He acted.

Discarding the clumsy movements of his persona, he spun as rapidly as he could skilfully raising his wand and...

"Avada Kedavra!"

Hadrian held his breath as Mr Shields collapsed.

Dead.

He would not let the Death Eaters or their Master rifle through the man's mind finding secrets he never wanted uncovered.

Sensing the dozen or more wands trained on him Hadrian lifted his eyes. Ferocious looking men and women had surrounded him, their faces tight with concentration and excitement. With mounting dread he realised that those he did recognise had all been rumoured to be a part of Voldemort's inner circle of followers; talented and intelligent witches and wizards with varying appetites for sadism.

The Death Eater's eyed the meek looking boy in front of them in confusion and curiosity. The boy didn't look like he had it in him to successfully cast the Killing Curse. They had been sure, when he had drawn his wand; that the boy was going to foolishly attempt to escape. His real intension was most...perplexing.

Draco stared bug eyed at his classmate and the dead body at his feet. He couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the fact the boy he had slept in the same dorm with for six years had just cast the ultimate Unforgivable without a flinch.

Quiet chuckles drifted across the room and Hadrian stiffened before slowly pivoting on his heel, forcing himself to look at the one person he had hoped to avoid above all others.

Crimson and black.

Those were the colours that defined the Dark Lord and Hadrian found it rather fitting. Blood and Death. Passion and ice. Incredible emotion and incredible self control.

And...stunning.

He anticipated that.

Hadrian made sure to keep his face blank but inside he was swirling with confusion, unease, fear and trepidation. The man was one of the most striking and beautiful beings he had ever laid eyes on. He was wearing deceptively simple black robes but Hadrian could tell by the complete lack of wrinkles in the material that they must be worth a fortune. The Dark Lord was sitting comfortably in a large arm chair, its back facing the roaring fire so that the shadows of the room seemed to coalesce around the man's impressive figure only highlighting the breathtaking angles of his face.

But what Hadrian couldn't tear his gaze away from was those eyes.

_Deep_, _**dark**_ crimson.

The man sitting before him was far more dangerous than he had thought possible.

Ruby eyes glinted with amusement, "I would apologise for interrupting you when you were so clearly busy, but we wouldn't want to start things off between us with lies. Would we, Mr Walker?"

The Dark Lord's voice was hypnotic and seductive, just like everything else about the man. His magic, his charm, his looks. It wasn't a seduction that fooled you into thinking you were safe, no. Rather...it pulled you in, made you crave his presence, his attention, his notice.

Hadrian narrowed his eyes. How much did they know? How was he meant to act? The Hadrian Walker that he was at the moment, the Hadrian Walker Hogwarts knew, would never be able to conjure the power or will to cast the Killing Curse but...he wasn't just going to hand them his secrets.

With skill and caution, Hadrian began acting his part. He hunched his shoulders slightly and cringed, letting his breath become slightly ragged and fearful. The small change in his body language was not obvious enough to look faked or put on, he prided himself on knowing just how much he could get away when manipulating his persona. He had his deceptive mask down to an art form.

"N-n-no Sir...I m-mean M-m-my Lord." He stuttered the words but made sure the volume of his voice didn't rise. It would be too much variance. This way, he merely looked like a spineless bully taking out his own weakness on those few less powerful than he. A bully who was now frozen in fear knowing he was among his superiors.

Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed a figure he had refrained from searching for since his abrupt arrival. He couldn't express how much he wished to demand from his friend what the hell was going on, but he needed all of his concentration and talent on the present if he wanted to survive this. Gabriel was pale and emotionless as he watched Hadrian's persona at work for the first time, his ice-blue eyes overflowing with his self loathing and guilt. Even so, Hadrian couldn't find it in himself to pity his friend. Not with the knowledge that it was his actions that had delivered him here.

What in Darkness's name had happened here?! His thoughts were racing. How much did they know? What did they want? And, why did the Dark Lord's eyes seem to be drinking him in almost, eagerly?!

With his heart pounding in his ears Hadrian stood very still...waiting...would they believe his mask? It all depended on what they knew of him. He cursed silently, Merlin! He knew nothing! How was he supposed to know how to act or what to say so he could make sure he lived to see the next few hours?! Fuck! He felt as if he had suddenly been apparated into the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with twenty hungry sharks circling him and told to find a way to convince the ravenous things not to eat him before he died from a combination of hypothermia and drowning!

He knew the exact moment when his act was bought. The Death Eaters sneered at him in disgust hissing at his cowardice. Despite his situation and the panic coursing through him he almost laughed at how easy they were to manipulate. Most of the inner circle had already lowered their wands; some even pocketed them so secure in the certainty of his weakness.

He felt lighter, at least he was in control of one thing; their perception of him. He had found a way to converse with the sharks.

Voices murmured around him, ignoring him for the moment and Hadrian took advantage. Carefully, so as not to gain undue attention, he peeked up through his brown fringe towards the silent figure in the arm chair.

Fuck.

The Dark Lord was smirking at him, his ruby eyes knowing and delighted as his followers relaxed, pouring themselves more alcohol before returning to their seats.

"Mr Walker, tell me...how are you acquainted with Mr Dalton?" Those eyes were practically daring him to lie.

Hadrian quickly analysed his options, he hadn't fooled the man for a moment. In fact, he clenched his fists in anger; the wizard seemed to find humour in his farce. But his Death Eaters were not to be underestimated and he would keep as many cards as he could in his grasp.

"Um, w-well, My Lord..." He took a deep breath as if searching for courage. In reality he was frantically searching his mind for an answer that would be vague enough to fit into whatever information they knew of him. "We meet...briefly at social occasions and such, we've conversed but...nothing beyond that."

Lord Voldemort raised a sceptical eyebrow and Hadrian had the inexplicable urge to blush in embarrassment, easily reading the man's thoughts. It was a less than inspired lie; one the man was less than impressed with.

"Of course," he drawled, spinning his wand in his fingers expertly, "how forgetful of me, acquaintances that barely ever speak to one another often give priceless necklace portkeys as gifts."

Hadrian barely kept his head from falling to his chest and his groan silent. He had..._forgotten _about that small detail. This time he couldn't fight off his blush and his cheeks tinged pink at the absolute stupidity of his words.

He just felt..._totally_ unprepared for this! How the _hell_ did he get here?! _Why_ was he here? What in _Merlin's_ name were his _friends_ doing standing over in the corner? And _how_ the _fuck_ was he supposed to dance with the _**Dark Lord**_ _not_ knowing all of these answers?!

The Dark Lord tisked mockingly before turning to his right.

"Mr Zabini?" Voldemort called softly and the young Slytherin immediately snapped to attention his heart rising to his throat when the room's attention shifted to him. "Do you know our guest? You certainly seemed to before."

Hadrian felt his heart quicken once again. It was almost too easy for the man. He noticed with frustration that Lucius Malfoy and Roberto Greengrass both narrowed their eyes on him in suspicion when their Lord continued with his questions.

Blaise stepped forward nervously. It was never a good thing to be the sole attention of Lord Voldemort. He nodded before speaking, his voice small. "Yes, Mr Lord. Walker is in Slytherin with all of us at Hogwarts. We've been _classmates _for six years now." He sneered, hating the connection that existed between himself and the weakling.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow his eyes flickering back to the stiff form of Hadrian for only a moment before once again focusing on the Zabini heir. "And how would you describe Mr Walker?"

Blasie scoffed, the alcohol in his system had given him the confidence to speak in the Dark Lord's presence without a stutter. "Walker is a pathetic coward Mr Lord. His grades are abysmal, his magic is barely higher than a squibs and he's terrified of his own shadow."

Daphne watched in confusion as a dark grin appeared on the face of her Master and he began laughing quietly to himself.

"Mr Walker," He spoke silkily and Hadrian couldn't stop the slight shudder that ran through his body at the sound refusing to flush in humiliation when red eyes glinted in amusement, having caught his involuntary response. "I must commend you. Not many are capable of fooling the majority of my inner circle so completely."

Silence.

Murmurs of confusion and distrustful stares were once again being pointed his way and Hadrian immediately stiffened and dropped his body's meek countenance. It would only impede him if he had to start defending himself from their spells.

"Friends," Voldemort rose from his chair and walked over to the still corpse pushing the head with the toe of his boot so he could see the face. "Only minutes ago this child cast the killing curse, a spell which needs powerful magic and control." Hadrian hissed quietly as that dark magic washed over him once again, crawling along his skin. "The same child that apparently is too dim to pass all his Hogwarts classes is _very_ close acquaintances with the Lord of the Dalton family." Hadrian clenched his jaw as mesmerizing red eyes locked on him tracing over his body deliberately. "...An enigma indeed."

Hadrian winced internally; the man was brilliant with his questions and with his words. Instead of calling him on his bluff he was backing him into a corner so small that he would have no choice but to reveal himself. He glared at the wall behind the man angrily and clenched his fists. If the Dark Lord thought that once he forced him to expose the secret of his two personas' he would be at his mercy, the man was sorely mistaken. If he was exposed he would fight tooth and nail against the man's rule and domination. And he wouldn't have to hold back.

"My Lord..." Gabriel, unable to hold his tongue any longer stepped forward.

It was a mistake and Hadrian watched silently, forcing his body to remain still, as he watched his former lover fall to the ground, writhing and screaming in agony before the spell was finally lifted.

"Mr Dalton, you seem to be making quite a few errors this evening. When I want you opinion, I will _ask_ for it." The voice was dangerous now, lacking any humour as Gabriel staggered to his feet. The Dark Lord's lips curled in distaste when the blonde refused to lower his eyes in submission.

"Cruico."

Again Gabriel went down, but this time Lucius Malfoy was the one pointing his wand. Gabriel fell to one knee but he didn't scream; this pain was nothing compared to what the Dark Lord was capable of inflicting.

"Expelliarmus." Hadrian hissed angrily and watched with relish as the Malfoy Lord was lifted off his feet and thrown violently across the room.

It was one thing to know he could do nothing when the Dark Lord raised his wand in punishment but he would not allow Gabriel to be tortured and humiliated by someone like Lucius _Malfoy._

"How _dare_ you!"

He sneered at the hostile wands pointed threateningly at him and brought his up to a ready position. He saw Marionette and Julian rush to help Gabriel to his feet only to have the blonde roughly shrug them off. Why hadn't the Dark Lord intervened? He had been expecting a Crucio of his own for his actions.

While Hadrian was eying his opponents critically he mentally berated himself for his foolish, impulsive action. But the minute he had seen that smug smirk on Malfoy's thin lips as he held the torture curse on his friend, his temper had flared hotly.

Idiot.

Angry, turbulent magic rolled through the room like a powerful wave.

"Leave us." The hissed command had the Death Eaters hastily bowing and leaving the room as fast as they could. None wanted to delay and incur the man's wrath onto themselves. Hadrian watched Lord Voldemort warily as the room emptied, sensing the dangerous anger exuding from the man. Not that he was attempting to hide it. The man was had come to a stop right next to him. He didn't turn to look at the beseeching eyes he could feel burning into his back. Gabriel should not have interfered. He should not have brought him here in the first place! And if he managed to leave this room with his heart still pumping he would be demanding an explanation from each and every one of his _friends. _

"Mr Dalton, you have tested my patience to the limit. I would suggest that if you do not want your line to meet a premature end that you _leave._" Voldemort's voice was cold and furious, his eyes piercing as he glared at Gabriel's lingering presence in the doorway. Hadrian did not turn. He heard the reluctant footsteps of Gabriel retreating soon after and sucked in a breath as the Dark Lord waved a hand at the door wandlessly shutting and erecting numerous wards around the room.

Without warning the Dark Lord's hand shot out and grabbed a chunk of his dank, brown hair. He yanked him towards him until Hadrian's body was only millimetres from the Dark Lord's. Long fingers curled into the hair jerking painfully so that he was looking up into those intimidating crimson eyes.

"I would advise you, Mr Walker, to not lie to me if you enjoy living in any small way." He whispered in warning, holding his gaze for a long tense moment before releasing him.

Hadrian refused to take a step back and show the man that he was uneasy with his proximity but again those eyes glinted knowingly and smirked.

"...I understand." He said his voice was level but slightly higher and more stilted than his natural smooth, tenor quality.

He had utilised this particular voice since he was fourteen and the Hadrian Walker at Hogwarts had gone through puberty. It had been a bit tricky, artificially mimicking and altering his voice to deliver a flawless performance of his persona's voice breaking, especially as his real voice had been going through the change at the same time. However, this pitch, accent and tone were his mask's voice and he had been using it since he had been unceremoniously transported here.

The Dark Lord nodded once before drawing back at _last_ giving him some room. Hadrian felt that panic that hadn't truly left him since he had appeared coil tighter in his stomach as ruby eyes raked over his form with painful concentration and detail.

He frowned in confusion before wiping it from his face. What was the man searching for?

"What_ I_ want to know, Mr Walker, is why you choose to hide your strength behind the mask of a meek and uninspiring wizard." The Dark Lord clearly expected an answer.

A truthful answer.

"What makes you think it isn't the other way around? Hiding weakness behind a facade of strength." Instead he asked a question, slowly trying to feel his way through the unknown steps of dancing with the Dark Lord.

He stubbornly ignored the thrill of excitement that shot through him at the challenge the man was offering. It had been a while since he was truly stretched.

Voldemort's lips quirked, "That, child, would not make much sense." Hadrian stared at the man in silence before that sensuous mouth parted, uttering words which brought a wave of alarm and horror down on him, leaving him speechless.

"Why don't you take down your glamour child? I would like to know your real face." It wasn't a suggestion; the red eyes were cold and hard now, lacking any humour.

"H-how did you...?" How could the Dark Lord have possibly seen through his glamour?! How?!

Instantly his mind supplied him with the answer. The weak disguise spell he had placed over his clothes just before he entered the orphanage. Of course something like that would have caught the man's attention and he would have no doubt searched; with his magic, for others. His glamours were not capable of withstanding such rigorous examination by the powerful wizard; it had been one of the reasons for him to keep such a low profile at Hogwarts. So Dumbledore wouldn't have reason to concentrate on him for too long and detect his masking spells.

Idiot.

The man chuckled darkly, "You are far more intriguing than I had anticipated, Mr Walker."

Beyond furious with himself, his situation, Gabriel and the _smug_ red eyed _bastard_ opposite him he responded before thinking. "And your behaviour mimics a nosy old woman far closer than I had thought possible, _sir_." He snapped and then winced. _That_ had been stupid.

Hadrian's whole body shuddered and he gasped deeply as the Dark Lord's curse encompassed him. It wasn't an Unforgivable, not even close, but he could feel how it sought out his joints; pulling, tearing, ripping...he breathed slowly, deeply.

"Do not disrespect me boy, I could have done _far _worse than that." Lord Voldemort snapped irritably.

And Hadrian knew he had been lucky, that curse, while illegal and banned had been nothing compared to what his punishment could have been and if anything that put him even more on edge. There was no rhyme or reason to the man's actions or punishments that he could detect, no yet anyway.

"Take off your glamour." His voice was low and Hadrian gritted his teeth in anger and fear, knowing he could not stall or delay any longer. The man had been surprisingly lenient up till now but the ominous taste to his magic told Hadrian that he would not like the consequences if he refused. And really what good would it do?

He sighed heavily waving his wand in front of him and cancelling the weak spell on his clothes. Unfortunately, the ridiculously oversized jeans, t-shirt and green leather jacket meant that he would not be able to avoid the discovery of the rune control.

The Dark Lord already knew he was not what he seemed, he already knew that the persona he acted as in Hogwarts was a mask. So why did he feel so uncomfortable and...uneasy about discarding his be-spelled appearance.

Crimson eyes watched silently, tracing the movements of his wand carefully and noting each of his spells.

Why was this affecting him so much?!

His heart was beating faster and his nerves were skyrocketing, _Salazer_, his hands were actually shaking!

Hadrian allowed his inky black hair to return and the usual healthy white glow of his skin to come forward. He knew his complexion was once again flawless and took note of how the Dark Lord's arms unfolded slowly.

His expression didn't alter though. Completely blank, no emotion.

Hadrian breathed deeply as he shrugged off the soft green leather jacket and pushed up the material of the too large white t-shirt.

A cool hand against his own immediately halted his actions and Hadrian looked up, confused, to see the Dark Lord's curious eyes tracing the tiny rune.

"Impressive." He murmured quietly and Hadrian beat down the tiny surge of pride that rose in him at the word.

Voldemort eventually drew back and Hadrian knew he recognised the rune for what it was and the magic it contained.

"Go on." He waved his hand and for the first time Hadrian saw the man's intellectual curiousity shinning through. The man appreciated complex and powerful magic in whatever form it took apparently.

Hadrian just stared for a minute, the Dark Lord holding his gaze, his order immovable. Why was he more afraid of showing his true face to the Dark Lord than his true personality?!

Closing his eyes Hadrian tapped his wand to the rune and sighed quietly as he felt the pent up magic and enchantments fall away, his body stretching and changing until he finally returned to his true body.

...Clenching his eyes tighter for just a moment, Hadrian finally opened them.

Nothing.

The man was entirely emotionless, unaffected.

For some inexplicable reason Hadrian felt his heart drop. What was he expecting though?!

He had no idea. All he knew was that he was...disappointed.

Voldemort cleared his throat and opened his mouth to speak snapping it shut abruptly when Hadrian lifted a hand in front of him.

"I haven't finished." He whispered almost...hollowly.

Why did he feel like this?! It was illogical! It made no sense! What had he wanted?! Expected, even! To feel this degree of emotion?!

Hadrian brought his wand to his temple and concentrated on releasing the spell surrounding his eyes.

Emerald fire blazed to life and he finally let his wand come to rest at his side. He was done.

That...emptiness had yet to depart but he ignored it and looked to the Dark Lord.

Hadrian almost staggered back at the intensity burning in those crimson eyes. He couldn't possibly differentiate all the different emotions smouldering in the blood red but Hadrian did know that they had sent a jolt through him.

His nerves were back and his panic for some reason was felt far more acute.

And he was...excited. Hadrian felt like laughing helplessly. He couldn't follow the reasoning behind the turbulent rise and fall of his own emotions!

"_That_, Mr Walker, was very...." The Dark Lord stepped closer his silky voice a dangerous croon, "Interesting."

Hadrian immediately shut down his emotions and took a large step back.

This man had forced him out into the open, was wreaking havoc with his thoughts and feelings and had exposed the secret of his hidden personas'. If the Dark Lord thought that he had him all figured out and at his mercy he had another thing coming.

Hadrian let his own Dark smirk spread across his lips and watched as Voldemort lifted an eyebrow in surprise.

If he wanted to survive in the new political arena he couldn't afford to hold back.

"I'm an interesting person." Hadrian spoke the daring words with his naturally smooth and cultured voice.

Dark chuckles floated through the rich sitting room as crimson brightened, accepting the unspoken challenge.

* * *

HEY ALL! Thanks for all the reviews they were fantastic!

Next chapter should be out soon and now that Hadrian has got his head around the fact that the Dark Lord knows about him...well...let the verbal sparring and cruel games begin! (grins)

I would love it if you could drop a review and told me what you thought of the chapter though! ;]


	7. I know

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Hey all! The Art of Hidden Persona's has been nominated for best WIP and Most original Harry Potter story on the Always Hoping awards website...COOL! ;D! It's incredible that someone thought enough of the story to nominate it so thank-you VERY much!

And another big thank-you for the reviews they were great and I fully intend on answering them all, don't worry! :D

* * *

The heels of Hadrian's dragon hide boots hit the white marble floor with a loud clap as he apparated into the hall. Without a seconds pause he swept up the ornate stone staircase moving rapidly towards his destination.

"Young Master Hadrian! You are home! They are waiting for you in the..." The squeaky voice of a nervous house-elf quickly disappeared as he stormed past the creature.

He knew exactly where they were. His calm magic had quickly picked up the numerous human presences in the second floor drawing room as soon as he had arrived.

His heart was only now starting to calm.

He could hardly believe that he was still breathing.

...

"_Well, Mr Walker? Why do you hide?" Voldemort's voice was casual but his eyes were interested._

_Hadrian purposefully leaned back against the wall behind him in a comfortable gesture but made sure to leave his arms hanging and free in case he had to draw his wand in defence. He scoffed silently, as if he had any hope of making it past the door of this room if the Dark Lord actually wished his death. _

"_I have my reasons." He spoke stiffly._

_Crimson eyes flared slightly in amusement. "And if you were smart, you would share those reasons with me."_

_Hadrian fought the urge to glare at the man; it would be ridiculously immature of him if he did._

"_It's interesting." He said._

_Voldemort quirked an eyebrow in surprise at his answer and Hadrian felt his confidence increase slightly. The man was not aware of all his secrets._

"_Please," The Dark Lord's voice was silky, "elaborate." Dangerous._

_Hadrian wondered what he should say and what possible explanation to give. He didn't want to unknowingly give the man more insight and knowledge into his life and secrets. Yet, one just does not lie to the Dark Lord, especially this one, so finally he decided on the truth, at least, part of it. _

"_Look, I enjoy people underestimating me; I like the feeling of knowing them, knowing their weaknesses like only a believed inferior can. When the people around you think you weak and stupid they do not bother to check their words or actions. Although Hogwarts does not seem to possess the most intriguing of individuals I would rather stand in the dark and know everything about those around me and be underestimated than overconfident and weak believing myself to be powerful and strong because I was better than the weak students of Hogwarts." He sneered in disgust imagining himself strutting around the school like his Slytherin peers convinced of his power and intelligence because he was able to cower __**children. **_

_Voldemort said nothing when he was finished he merely lifted his crystal tumbler to his lips and took a large sip before setting it back down, not once removing his eyes from Hadrian's. "Again, child, you show yourself to be more intriguing than I had envisaged. I see the logic and enticement behind that reason..." Hadrian felt an unexplainable dread seep into his gut at the man's smirk. He didn't know how but he was sure that he had just revealed something about himself to the other man that he didn't want known and would regret later. "On the other hand, have you ever thought about the possibility of allowing just enough of your strength to shine through in order to show your power, while hiding the extent of its range?" The man's words were mocking but at the same time serious._

_Hadrian scowled. The man was playing with him._

"_No." He stated clearly. "Why? Is that what you did?" He questioned boldly._

_The Dark Lord chuckled lowly, "No need to be insulted Mr Walker, I was merely asking." The dark smirk and menacing eyes, however, said differently. And the man made no attempt to conceal it._

_Hadrian clenched his fists together tightly._

"_So the only reason you disguise yourself so completely is merely...curiousity and cunning?" The Dark Lord taunted, "And the very real reality of you being removed from your guardian's care should her identity be discovered has nothing to do with your mask." _

_Hadrian sucked in a large breath. _

_Raven._

_Crimson eyes darkened, losing all humour and amusement as the Dark Lord leant forward in his arm chair. "I think we both know that that is the real reason you hide who you are." _

_Hadrian forced himself to swallow past the lump in his throat but his expression did not alter. It was crucial at that moment to not show weakness, to not breakdown. If the Dark Lord thought he had nothing to offer, nothing unique, the man would rip him apart. _

"_That is quite possible."Hadrian said calmly, his exterior confident and cool, his insides panicked and racing. What was the man planning to do?! Hadrian knew that the Dark held no love for Raven Nadine but neither did the light. What was the Dark Lord planning to do with this information? He would be damned if he sat back and watched Raven hurt, even if that meant fighting against the man opposite him._

_Slowly, the Dark Lord's lips stretched into a predatory grin, "Indeed." _

_Voldemort held gazes with him before slowly lifting his right arm and flicking his wrist. The soft click of the door unlocking resounded in the silent room._

"_Go, Mr Walker. And I expect to see you at tomorrow's celebration. It is our last after-all." _

"_Of course," Hadrian drawled, annoyed at the prospect, as he moved toward the exit, "because these types of celebrations are always the height of fascinating." He muttered under his breath._

"_Oh, and child..."_

_Hadrian clenched his teeth but forced himself to turn around. He ached to leave the room; he felt completely out of his depth and needed time to process this. Voldemort was standing in front of a massive three metre, floor to ceiling window, his back facing Hadrian and his eyes locked on the beautiful landscape in front of him._

"_Yes?" He almost snapped but caught himself at the last moment, judging by the smirk on the man's lips though he had not been able to mask his frustration expertly enough._

"_Do come as yourself won't you?" Those crimson eyes rose suddenly glinting with sadistic amusement through the refection in the window._

_His eyes widened. "What?!" He couldn't contain his alarm and anger._

_Voldemort spun round and fixed him with a cool stare. "Do not disrespect me child." The voice was deadly and low and Hadrian breathed deeply taking a moment to regain his normally unshakeable control._

_This time he did glare. "Would you mind clarifying?" He mocked with a sickly sweet tone unable to contain all of his ire. _

_Suddenly, the towering form of Lord Voldemort was in front of him, "Certainly." The man grinned back darkly as if entertained by his response. "I will allow you to appear in your glamoured form tomorrow night as long as you release your true personality from its cage."_

_Hadrian narrowed his eyes at the man. Why would the Dark Lord allow him to appear at the ball under the physical mask of his persona but not the intellectual one? What game was he playing?_

"_Fine." He said slowly, not trusting the sinfully handsome man in front of him in the least._

"_Good." The Dark Lord took a large step back and waved at him in dismissal, his expression once again calm and uninterested as if this encounter was nothing out of the ordinary._

_Hadrian didn't linger. As he swept out of the room he quickly erected the strongest invisibility spell he knew around himself. There was no way in hell he was going to spend another minute in the intoxicating presence of the Dark Lord so his mask could wait. Without pausing he passed by the few lingering Death Eaters in the entrance hall and left the confines of the house._

_Grasping his wand tightly he spun and concentrated on his destination. With a loud crack he disapparated unable to concentrate enough to muffle the sound. _

_Hadrian, preoccupied as he was, didn't notice the way intense, flaming, crimson eyes tracked his swift invisible movements unerringly across the grounds. _

_..._

As Hadrian moved through the halls he attempted to get his raging anger under control. He very rarely lost his temper but he knew he was in danger of doing so now.

The muffled sounds of raised voices and yelling assaulted him as he rapidly approached the dark wooden door.

He didn't wait.

Clasping the bronze door handle firmly he pushed down and swung the door open.

Five heads swung round at the noise and all fell silent as he strode into the room shutting the door softly behind him.

"...Hadrian." Gabriel breathed out his name in relief his blue eyes fluttering closed for a moment as if his body were devoid of energy.

"Thank the darkness you're alright." Raven whispered from her seat next to the large fire.

He said nothing.

"Hadrian?" Demetri spoke cautiously like one would do to a scared animal easily spooked. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"Yes." Julian's stiff voice cut through the soft viciously, "I too would like to know exactly what happened after you brutally murdered the tortured man you showed up with."

"Julian." Demetri hissed in anger and warning.

"No, he's right. We have a right to know why the person we're protecting so eagerly killed and tortured someone tonight." Marionette spoke sharply and Hadrian raised his eyes to lock with condemning sapphire.

"We don't know if Hadrian was the one to torture him." Demetri once again came to his defence despite the way his black eyes fluttered in his direction with doubt.

Still he said nothing. Merely stood, leaning back against the door of the room surveying its occupants with an emotionless expression.

"Hadrian?" Raven slowly rose from her chair, her relieved expression fleeing, replaced with dread and fear. "What happened?"

"...Before or after I cast the Killing Curse Raven?" Hadrian asked calmly.

Raven's violet eyes adopted a fond exasperation amongst her fear, "After, of course."

Some of the ice around his eyes melted and he shot her a thankful look. She accepted him. The good and the bad.

"Madam Nadine!" Marionette squawked horrified.

"Marionette! Quiet!" Demetri barked his eyes locked on his friends form. Something was wrong here, he realised. He glanced at Dalton and noticed that his blue eyes were watching Hadrian with a look he had never seen on the blonde before.

"Well, Hadrian?!" Julian demanded harshly his eyes flashing.

"Raven? Would you excuse us?" Hadrian spoke softly.

The violet eyed woman fixed her son with a look that told him he had better explain later before nodding and leaving the room.

Slowly, Hadrian walked away from the door and deeper into the room coming to lean back against the stone wall furthest from all of them.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake Walker! Stop acting all wounded and self-pitying so you can gain our sympathy and support! It's not going to happen! You became a murderer tonight, do you know that?! You killed someone! And I don't care what anyone else says I know you tortured that man too! So stop with the orphan routine, stop with the battered and wounded soul. It won't help you!" Marionette's brown locks were flying chaotically around her as she finally let loose and started yelling.

Hadrian merely watched her in silence taking note of the satisfied look in Julian's eyes the furious anger in Demetri's and the icy, dangerous rage exuding from Gabriel.

"What? You have nothing to say? Nothing to defend yourself with Hadrian?" It was a cruel taunt.

"Julian." Demetri snapped shocked beyond belief that his sister and friend were acting like this. Hadrian had just come from a confrontation with the Dark Lord!

"What Demetri?! What?!" Julian yelled.

"Julian..." Immediately the blonde's roars ceased.

Julian's world seemed to literally stop as that one soft call of his name swept over him. Slowly, he turned to look at Gabriel and violently flinched back at the disgust and anger in those blue eyes. He spun around and presented his back to the four others in the room. He couldn't look into those ice-blue eyes again. He clenched his eyes shut tightly pressing a fist to his stomach. It hurt that Gabriel would look at him like that. Look at him with that amount of dislike when he had seen the way Gab had watched Hadrian ever since he had come into the room. Hadrian was a murderer! Gabriel had endured the torture curse for him and he still watched Hadrian with that look in his eyes! The Dalton heir hadn't said a word since they had left; he hadn't said a thing as they waited for two hours in the Nadine Manor for Hadrian to turn up. No matter the questioning, no matter who spoke...nothing. And then...Hadrian simply walks through that door and Gabriel breaks his silence.

Julian felt like screaming against the pain and jealousy consuming him, his thoughts wouldn't leave him alone. Gabriel, the man he has loved for years, broke his silence for a person who doesn't appreciate it. Who has never appreciated it.

Hadrian watched and listened to all of this trying to contain his rage through it all. It was bubbling beneath the surface waiting to explode and the people in front of him were not helping him control it.

"What happened?" His voice was barely above a whisper but they all heard it.

Julian's shoulders tensed and Marionette stared at him bug-eyed totally uncomprehending.

"What the _hell _happened before I was unceremoniously dropped in the middle of the Dark Lord's inner circle with the Dark Lord not ten feet away from me? What the _hell _did you all do?" Hadrian kept his voice level but it shook with intensity.

"Hadrian..." Demetri's voice sounded lost.

"Gabriel?" Hadrian locked eyes with his former lover steam rolling over the Russian wizard. He knew this began and ended with the Dalton heir and he would know the story before he let any of them leave this room.

"Walker!" Marionette shouted in outrage.

Green eyes, flashing with rage, swung round to connect with the girl.

"Yes Marionette?" Hadrian stalked closer his muscles tense and begging for a fight. "Is there something constructive here that you have to add? Are you really aware of what exactly just went on? Are you in any small way capable of shedding light on this situation? Because if you're not, and I can not see you ever really knowing what goes on around you, you will sit back, shut-up and keep your ill-informed, arrogant idea's to yourself...are we clear?" His voice was low and threatening. He was not in the mood for her insecurities nor was he in the mood to coddle her, not that he ever had, but if she didn't start to keep her mouth shut he knew that right now he wasn't capable of restraining himself from lashing out.

Marionette twitched attempting to stop the words which were on the tip of her tongue. She felt furious at Hadrian for his presumptuous orders but her instincts; those were telling her that that her chilling fear was not unfounded. Not from the way he was looking at her.

"Are we clear?"

"...Yes." she whispered, bowing her head, she couldn't stop from hating herself in that moment for giving in, despite knowing that it was the right decision.

Hadrian could feel the heat of Demetri's glare on his back for having frightened his little sister but he didn't care at this point.

"_Now_... I don't care what you think I did or what kind of hell I will be going to when I die! I want someone to tell me what the _fuck _happened tonight!" Hadrian was barely able to keep his voice from shouting and Gabriel knew it. He had known it since the man had silently stalked into the room with a blank face and still magic. Hadrian had reached his limit.

"He knew." Gabriel's voice was steady and his eyes didn't move from the others handsome form. "I accepted the dinner request tonight knowing that I would suffer a punishment for so blatantly ignoring the Dark Lord. He had heard...rumours about you Hadrian, but he didn't have enough information to piece you together." Gabriel paused for a moment but Hadrian remained silent without a flicker of reaction so he continued, "I believe that your presence tonight was meant primarily as a means to punish me." Hadrian's chin lifted minutely at that but he didn't comment. "But...they found out about Raven and I think that the Dark Lord became curious about you."

Hadrian narrowed his eyes in thought, if that was true then Voldemort must not have known about Hogwarts and his attendance there. What supremely bad luck! If those idiot Slytherins hadn't been in the room he may not have had that particular secret discovered tonight. He would have had more time!

"And _why _Dalton did you use the portkey to bring me there tonight?" he hissed quietly his eyes glaring blackly at the beautiful man in front of him.

Gabriel winced inwardly at the use of his last name but his clawing guilt wouldn't allow him to defend himself. He had given up the man he loved to the Dark Lord, literally thrown him to the wolves. It was a miracle that Hadrian had even left that room alive.

"Because, Lord Voldemort threatened to kill Demetri, Marionette and myself if Gabriel didn't do the impossible and find a way to make you appear before him!" Julian exploded. "_You_! Gabriel was put under the Crucio for Morgana's sake, for _you_! He was tortured for protecting _your_ miserable murdering self! And you have the _audacity_ to come in here demanding answers from him! _You bastard_!"

"Julian! That's enough! That isn't Hadrian's fault!" Demetri shouted.

It was totally illogical. Completely ridiculous of him to react in such a way but, as Julian lost complete control of his rage and resentment, Hadrian felt his own cool. He was able to look through reasonable eyes once again and what he saw shocked and on some level even humoured him.

"...You're in love with him." Hadrian murmured with a shocked almost awed voice. How hadn't he known this?!

"What?" Demetri snapped back completely bewildered, what was Hadrian talking about?

Julian felt the blood drain from his face and his heart stutter in his chest as wide green eyes took in his face.

"I can't believe I never saw it before." Hadrian spoke as if to himself but his words rang within the room.

Julian attempted to clampdown on his nerves but it seemed an impossible task. He had been hiding this secret for years, nobody knew! But...his eyes widened slightly at his daring. Perhaps...perhaps _now_ was his chance. He felt hope and excitement begin to blossom within his chest. Gabriel and Hadrian were fighting, he was defending the Dalton heir and...he looked up to see suspicious blue eyes locked on _him_. _Him, _not Hadrian. Gabriel was _actually looking_ at _him_. He forcibly shook his head, golden eyes wide with realisation. Perhaps _now,_ really was his chance.

"Walker...what are you talking about?" Marionette finally gathered enough courage to voice her confusion to the astounded looking man in front of her.

Gabriel rose from his chair feeling a whole different type of dread begin to enter his system. Please, don't let this be what he thought it was.

Hadrian didn't speak he just continued to stare at Julian as if he had never seen him before.

Demetri didn't want to believe what was right in front of him, what had just been declared so openly. He could understand Hadrian's shock, it was totally out of the blue, but seeing the way Julian's emotions were raging and the way he was staring so imploringly at Dalton...Demetri couldn't help following Hadrian into conscious stupefaction.

Hadrian closed his eyes for a small moment and quickly wiped his face of emotion, but inside, he was still reeling. Julian and Gabriel...he had never thought...Did Gab feel the same? Was this summer exactly what he had wanted in the first place and he had just read too much into things? Doubt and confusion swirled but he kept his cool.

"Nothing Marionette." He answered his voice even, fighting his sudden inexplicable urge to laugh. It was just so unexpected.

Gabriel knew exactly what had just happened but unlike Hadrian and Demetri he was not surprised. He had known Julian was in love with him. He had known for two years exactly how the wizard felt but the man had never brought it up so he was content to just ignore it and get on with his life. He didn't wish to hurt his friend but that's what would happen if he was put into a situation where he would have to reject Julian.

...He could admit that at one point he had considered the possibility of them together, at one point he was even willing to try, but that had been before that night. The night he had seen Hadrian pull a Greek wizard three years his senior into his bedroom from his shocked position down the hall. His jealousy was his first clue. Gabriel himself had had many bed partners, both male and female, but never had any ever stirred emotions within him. He quickly became consciously aware that Hadrian's good opinion was the one he valued most. That the idea of his friend's precarious position and dangerous political games made his heart pound in fear and ignited an urge to protect that he hadn't felt since his parents were alive.

The possibility of Julian vanished from his mind while he had watched; frozen, as Hadrian brought the Mediterranean man's mouth down to his own and shut the door behind them. Gabriel knew that what he felt for Hadrian wasn't fleeting or capable of fading any time soon. He also knew that those few weeks that he had considered the possibility of he and Julian together hadn't involved any truthful emotions and he wouldn't do that to his friend. He wouldn't pretend to feel more for him than he actually did. He refused to hurt him like that.

Looking into those beseeching golden eyes Gabriel decided to spare his friend the hurt of his rejection and expertly called up confusion and bewilderment into his icy blue eyes and expression. Demetri relaxed and he felt like smirking in satisfaction even when Julian's eyes held disappointment and resentment for his 'missed chance'. Marionette stayed quiet knowing something important had just been revealed but frustrated with herself for being unable to put a name to it and unwilling to ask again.

Hadrian watched with amusement as Gabriel's mask came up, watched the reactions of the others with a spark of annoyance that they all had been fooled so easily. He reminded himself that Gabriel Dalton was one of the best, most dangerous players in politics and it was expected that he would be able to effortlessly manipulate them. He allowed a small smirk to grace his lips when blue eyes glanced in his direction, surely Gabriel hadn't actually thought he had pulled the wool over his eyes? His smirk widened and his eyes twinkled with laughter at the blonde.

"...What did the Dark Lord want Hadrian? What happened?" Gabriel finally asked, irritated but unsurprised that Hadrian hadn't been fooled by his act.

Hadrian sighed and reached up to run a hand through his hair. Thinking about the intoxicating Lord Voldemort was not helping him. It had been terrifying, confusing, suffocating and tense but also...invigorating.

His expression showed nothing of his thoughts or exposed the fast pounding of his heart, "The Dark Lord discovered my glamour and has ordered me to attend the ball tomorrow with my true personality." He said this in a simple straight forward voice which immediately told the others he did not feel like discussing anything more at the present.

"You're true personality...? He does not wish you to take down your glamour?" Gabriel pressed, dismissing Hadrian's wish. His eyes narrowed and his thoughts raced trying to decode the reasons behind the Dark Lord's move.

"Correct." Hadrian's voice was sharp so Gabriel decided to drop the subject for now. He surveyed the raven haired man with bright eyes suspiciously, something had definitely happened.

Julian didn't look in Hadrian's direction, he couldn't wipe the glare from his face no matter how hard he tried and he knew he had to get out of here soon before he said something that would _really_ ignite the tense confusion in the room...but...he _had_ to know.

He had had his suspicions that something was going on between Hadrian and Gabriel but deep down he hadn't really believed it, they were too different. They had been best friends for years, Gabriel knew Hadrian better than anyone other than Raven but...he hadn't _really _believed...not until tonight. Not until he saw the necklace. The twin portkey necklaces were a Dalton family treasure and fanatically coveted, only to be used by family members. For Gabriel to give Hadrian one of the necklaces...he felt sick to his stomach just thinking of them together but...maybe it wasn't the same one. He prayed it wasn't.

"It was lucky you were wearing the necklace tonight Hadrian...if I may be so bold..._how_ did you and Gabriel acquire them?" Julian spoke slowly and cautiously not knowing if he actually wanted the answer.

He finally raised his eyes when his question met only silence. Hadrian's head was turned in Gabriel's direction clearly expecting him to answer.

"I commissioned them to be made at Gringotts by the Goblins." Gabriel answered smoothly and Julian felt his heart settle and his muscles relax. Thank the Darkness.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright Hadrian but I better get Marionette home. You gave her quite a scare." Demetri reprimanded but Hadrian ignored the Russian wizard. Marionette was the same age as him and shouldn't always need her brother's protection. He would not apologise when he was not in the wrong.

"Goodnight." Gabriel answered politely for both Hadrian and himself while Julian nodded his acknowledgement to Demetri before he began to follow the two.

"Gab?" Julian asked with a frown stopping to turn to Gabriel when he noticed the other had not moved to follow him.

Green eyes rolled in annoyance at Julian's immature tantrum. The sandy haired wizard still refused to so much as look in his direction.

"Go on Julian, I will see you at the ball tomorrow." Gabriel stated stiffly, not liking the fact that Julian thought he had the right to demand knowledge of his movements and whereabouts.

"But..."

"Goodnight Julian." Gabriel dismissed but his eyes remained locked on Hadrian as he slowly settled himself into the leather armchair opposite the flames.

Julian looked between the two before finally nodding and shutting the door behind him louder than necessary.

"..."

"Are you alright?" Gabriel asked quietly.

Hadrian chuckled. "I'm alive aren't I? Considering the circumstances I think that qualifies as alright."

Gabriel merely smiled in agreement when green eyes slid toward him.

Both sat in silence, watching the flames. The atmosphere was neither comfortable nor uncomfortable just _there, real_.

"I had no idea Julian was in love with you." Hadrian murmured softly, some of his shock still present and echoing through his voice.

Gabriel shrugged. "Until he gains the courage to say anything to me I do not have to hurt him, so I pretend I do not know."

Hadrian hummed but his thoughts refused to obey his wishes and continued flashing back to dangerously amused crimson eyes and sleek black hair.

"You did not tell them anything of significance." Gabriel noted.

Hadrian shrugged, "they may be my friends but that does not earn them to right to interrogate me. Certainly after that display."

Gabriel chuckled at Hadrian's brutal assessment but couldn't help but agree. They hadn't acted in a way which would inspire trust.

Both sat still, just coming to terms with tonight and all that had changed before Hadrian's smooth voice spoke again.

"...I've been worried about you Gabriel." He left out any judgement but the small reprimand was acknowledged with the blonde's dark grin.

"How else will I gain your attention?"

Green eyes narrowed, "That better not be the reason you ignored the Dark Lord Gab or I will torture you myself." He growled.

The blonde laughed. "No, that wasn't the reason..." he tilted his head toward his love. "Did something happen Hadrian? After we left?"

Crimson and black.

Dark magic crawling seductively over his skin.

Hear pounding in fear and excitement.

"No."

Gabriel watched Hadrian as the other took his time to answer, something had happened. He knew it. Fine, if Hadrian wouldn't tell him he would just have to discover the answer himself, meanwhile, there was another question he had wanted to ask.

"...who was that man? The one you killed?"

Hadrian stiffened, his mind instantly throwing him backwards, suppling him with memory and image of Mr Shields's demise. He was unprepared for the relief and feelings of gratification which bombarded his system. He hadn't let himself think past his doubtful survival of this night to fully appreciate what he had accomplished.

Mr Shields was dead.

Gone.

He would never hurt him again.

"...It doesn't matter." He breathed out softly bringing himself under control once again. Emerald eyes darkened but there was a dark satisfaction within them that called to and attracted the blonde, "Just an old acquaintance."

Gabriel nodded in acceptance. The fact that Hadrian had murdered someone tonight didn't bother him, he had killed before, tortured before...and he had enjoyed it. It was the darkness in them. You could either accept and control it or fight against your nature and lose yourself to the madness.

"Stop staring at me Gabriel." Hadrian murmured in annoyance. The blonde's unmoving eyes on him were distracting.

Pink lips smirked.

"Good to know I can still affect you."

Hadrian threw the man a disgusted look. "Really? That's all you can say?"

The French wizard laughed with a little bitterness, "It's not like you'll accept anything I do."

Hadrian sighed and let his eyes fall closed at the other's words.

"Gabriel..." Hadrian began but strong hands were suddenly clasping both his shoulders and pulling him to his feet.

Emerald eyes sprung open to find ice-blue not an inch away blazing with emotion.

"I've had a lot of time to think Hadrian. A lot of time. I made a mistake letting you walk out on me, one I do not intend to ever repeat. I want to be with you. I find you infuriating, brilliant, stunning, twisted and incredible. I will never want another now that I have had a taste of you Hadrian. I want you and I will do whatever I have to, to make that happen."

The blonde was breathing harshly and Hadrian felt a little thrill go through him. He doubted that any other than him had ever seen the Dalton heir this passionate and unguarded. But...

"...Gab..." He whispered bringing a hand up to cup the back of the man's neck. "Gab..." He breathed in deeply. "I can't. I won't do this to you."

Hands tightened almost painfully on his shoulders but he paid them no mind, he was too busy staring into burning blue shining with stubbornness and want.

"You won't do this to me..." Gabriel slowly echoed his words leaning closer to him. Hadrian barely managed to tear his eyes away from the man's lips. The blonde was sinfully desirable right now and Hadrian was forcing himself not to take the tempting gift being offered to him. He couldn't do this to him. Not again. "...But I will."

Hadrian barely had time to comprehend the words before his lips were claimed in a heated kiss. His hands quickly switched from gently holding the other to painfully yanking at long blonde locks as he swiftly gained control of the kiss. He shivered as Gabriel's hands pushed his green leather jacket down his arms, dipping beneath his white t-shirt in order to caress his chest with skilfully teasing strokes.

"Gab..."he gasped as he ripped his mouth away.

He moaned helplessly as a cool hand dipped beneath his trousers and grasped him firmly.

"Don't think Hadrian. Stop thinking. Just enjoy it." Gabriel whispered into his ear and he bit down on his tongue to stop the guttural groan from escaping him as that hand began to move.

Normally, he wouldn't have put half as much effort into dissuading someone who so clearly wished not to be dissuaded but something told him to try harder. To not let this go any further. And that _pissed him off_. He had never felt this way before and the way crimson and black kept flashing in front of his eyes he had a dreadful feeling that he knew the reason why.

Feeling furious at himself and desperately hopeful it wasn't true he yanked Gabriel's hair down and claimed the other's lips brutally. His mouth vibrated with the feel of Gab's moan and his own soon followed as Gabriel's hand began moving faster and faster.

"Hadrian..."

His hips bucked and he bit down on Gabriel's shoulder liking the unexpected taste of blood as one incisor penetrated the muscle.

He could feel the heat growing, the pressure rising ad his vision tunnelling.

"Hadrian..." Gabriel repeatedly murmured his name kissing and biting along his neck.

He pulled Gab's head up for one last scorching kiss as his stomach muscles tensed and with a final gentle squeeze he came.

Both stood there in silence for several moments, breathing harshly in each other's faces as they caught their breath.

"I want you Hadrian." Gabriel breathed heavily as he slowly removed his hand.

"..."

"I want this. I want _you_."

Hadrian drew in a long, deep breath as the words washed over him. He murmured a cleaning spell before turning to pick up his discarded jacket from the blood red carpet.

Red.

Crimson.

"...I know." He murmured softly.


	8. Pride and Ego

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Thanks for the reviews!

XXX

Power.

Darkness.

Crimson.

Hadrian glared at the ceiling. He had been trying to sleep for the past three hours to no avail. No matter how tired his body was, his mind refused to let him rest.

"Tempus." His soft murmur in the silence echoed hauntingly through the empty room.

Two hours. He had two hours until he had to make an appearance at that blasted ball. Hadrian couldn't stomach it; the man's _orders. _The very idea of obeying anyone like some sort of brainless mongrel was unbearable.

He didn't want that. He wasn't capable of accepting that life.

He had thought himself prepared, he chuckled bitterly, how wrong he was. From the moment that darkness, that magic had touched him he knew this was not someone that could be conquered in any small way. He had only to feel the violence in the man's aura to know there would be no escaping the Dark Lord.

But, damn it! He pressed a fist to his forehead and scrunched his eyes shut. This was not supposed to happen!

He cursed explosively, breathing heavily before he lowered his fist, blinking open his eyes.

The man had effortlessly seized control last night and if Hadrian had any hope of surviving and keeping his independence he had to regain it.

He had severely underestimated the man. It was not a mistake he intended to make again.

His lips twisted into a silent snarl, emerald eyes glowing eerily in the dark.

And he knew about Raven.

His patience and control at an end Hadrian swiftly slid from the cool, silk sheets and walked briskly towards the bathroom unable to stay still any longer. Quickly undressing, Hadrian stepped into the shower adjusting the water to a scalding temperature which immediately turned his pale white skin a rosy pink and flooded the room with steam.

Hadrian stood motionless beneath the pounding pressure of the water his thoughts swirling chaotically. There was a reason the Dark Lord had ordered him to show his true personality tonight. He knew there was. He just had to find it.

What possible reason? What benefit would it bring to the man? Hadrian gritted his teeth together, frustrated that he hadn't figured this out yet. He loved riddles, he revelled in the knowledge and power he felt as he slowly solved the mystery.

He slammed a fist into the white tiles behind him. He refused to allow the Dark Lord to win. Not now. Not like this. He would never be able to look himself in the mirror again knowing how easily the man had dominated him, with little to no effort.

He could figure this out.

He had to.

For the umpteenth time his mind flew through the facts unwilling to let the answer elude him. The Dark Lord had clearly wanted Hadrian to submit to his will tonight and destroy half of his mask in the process. Why? The man already knew and there was nobody that could be at the ball which would push the Dark Lord into exposing a potential spy. Existing as he did in the back-ground, underestimated, gave him the unique position of collecting information from the students of Hogwarts. After-all, people are more willing to share potentially sensitive information with a person weaker than themselves than one who could make their life difficult. It wasn't much, Hadrian conceded, but the Dark Lord didn't know what he was capable of, therefore, he couldn't possibly know that using Hadrian in such a way would be a waste of his talent. Granted, the man knew he was no slouch when it came to wand-work with the glamour's he had had to deconstruct in his presence but still...although difficult and evidence of a fairly powerful wizard that feat of magic would not have impressed someone of the Dark Lord's calibre so...what then? Why throw an asset, no matter how small, away? It wasn't smart and he knew the man was frighteningly intelligent.

No, there was something else. Something he was missing. It was staring him straight in the face but he couldn't put his finger on it!

Hadrian scowled as he turned off the water and stepped out to wrap a towel around his waist. He hated not being in control and he hated being used. The Dark Lord was doing both.

Anger flaring Hadrian slammed the bathroom door open with the outstretched palm of his hand. He sighed and rubbed his eyes as he leaned back across the bed the cool silk soothing against his flushed skin.

It was unreasonable and immature but he couldn't help resenting that the Dark Lord thought so little of him that he would cast aside the small benefit Hadrian's hidden persona could grant him. He wasn't _worthy_ enough, he sneered. Logic was being thrown out the window here, the fact that he had wanted this to happen, for the Dark Lord to glance over him, to think him too weak and talentless to be worth his attention suddenly didn't matter...

Emerald eyes widened and he bolted upright.

...it...didn't _matter_ to him. His goals, his intentions they...no longer _mattered_ to him.

"...I'm an _idiot_!" Hadrian groaned feeling totally pathetic as he let his head fall into his hands.

Pride and ego.

The man had played him and he had fallen for it.

He had been _hurt, _he grimaced at the realisation. Hurt that the Dark Lord did not think highly of him. The man was powerful, stunning and brilliant and...Hadrian had fallen straight into his trap.

Deep beneath the humiliation and self recrimination he was feeling Hadrian couldn't help being impressed. The Dark Lord had effortlessly pin-pointed a weakness in him, one that he had been aware of but never thought to address. Living life as a hidden persona had made him crave recognition and approval and Voldemort had capitalised on that.

Hadrian felt disgusted with himself and embarrassed. He wouldn't have followed the Dark Lord's orders; he wouldn't have exposed his persona tonight thinking he was showing his defiance, his strength. The Dark Lord would have laughed; delighted with himself Hadrian was sure. The man knew what he would do, was counting on it, in fact. Hadrian would have bowed to the Dark Lord tonight, his own plans and ambitions pushed aside because Lord Voldemort would be pulling his strings.

He had been such a fool!

The man was brilliant, he smiled bitterly.

Hadrian let his breath out in a rush, exhausted. The horror of how close he came to loosing himself tonight was frightening.

Verdant eyes darkened and he pushed himself from the bed. As he reached into the hollow space beneath him he flicked his wand, clothing himself in black slacks and a tight white t-shirt. Hadrian growled as he threw books into the open trunk now sitting on his bed. Tonight had not been fun. Throwing open the doors of his wardrobe he grasped an armful of hangers and stuffed them into his trunk not caring that all his clothes would be horribly wrinkled and his possessions in disorder and chaos, something he never would have allowed had he been thinking clearly.

As it was though, he was irked and fuming.

The Dark Lord had played him so well; he had almost danced to the man's tune tonight.

Hadrian's expression was unreadable as he spelled his potion instruments into the trunk, not flinching when half a dozen potion bottles shattered from the pressure behind his magic.

Rage and resolve flooded through him.

He would not allow himself to become a puppet. He was his own master. Hadrian's magical aura brightened, the silk curtains fluttering in the magical currents.

His hand twitched and his body abruptly stilled.

Without warning, a slow languid smirk stretched across Hadrian's lips and emerald eyes glinted in reckless amusement.

He needed to show the Dark Lord that he was not under his control.

Reaching down he closed the lid of his trunk softly, chuckling.

He wasn't in the mood for a ball anyway.

XXX

"_Albus! You can't be serious?!"_

"_Indeed, I am Molly...must be trained."_

"Would you shut-up?! I can't hear anything!" Landon spun around and hissed at Hermione. He totally ignored her glare much too focused on eavesdropping on the Order meeting downstairs. He quickly turned back around and pressing closer to the extendable ear.

"_...Alastor is too harsh what...Landon now?"_

"Ron! Move over!" Ginny belted her brother in the ribs and successfully pushed him aside rushing forward before he could reclaim his spot.

"...it sounds awfully tense down there." Fred murmured; uneasy.

Landon glared through the wooden stair railings at the simple white door separating him from the Order. He was seventeen for Merlin's sake! He should be down there!

"_...Trust that low life...my son no-where near him, I'll handle the training myself! Lily? Padfoot? Will you both...?"_

"Training?" Ron echoed, his brown eyes glinting eagerly, "Landon, did your Dad ever mention anything to you before?" He whispered harshly in his best friend's ear.

Landon scowled, he was trying to listen! Couldn't Ron see that?! He sensed Ron opening his mouth to demand an answer and Landon reacted quickly. Reaching blindly behind him he slammed a tanned hand over the red-heads mouth, eyes never straying from staring intensely at the doors below.

"_...Potter would be unable to grasp the simple nature of...He's on the move, gathering allies...be surprised if the whole lot of those snakes weren't kissing his boots and...need to believe in ourselves, they are only children and can be shown the light. We need only...expect raids, deaths, disappearances?...hope and continue to listen. Until Voldemort makes a move Fudge is unwilling to see the truth...eye on your students Severus. I want a list of any..."_

Landon drew away slowly as the extendable ear went silent and the group exchanged confused looks. "Well," George breathed sarcastically as he slowly started winding up the listening device, "Anyone actually understand any of that dribble?" 

"Honestly," Hermione huffed looking at the others with superiority. She was preparing to launch into a convoluted explanation before Landon rudely cut her off.

"They're worried...about Voldemort gathering strength and allies, about the Ministry not believing that he's returned." Landon sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "They're just worried."

"And about the Slytherins at school!" Hermione rushed out not willing to be outdone.

"What do you mean?" Ginny frowned at her friend in confusion.

It was Fred who answered.

"Think about it Gin. Everyone knows that Lucius Malfoy and Casius Zabini were Death Eaters in the war, anyone with half a brain that is. It's only because they bought their way out of Azkaban that they're still walking around soul intact. Don't you think that the ferret and his cronies will follow in their father's footsteps?" he warned.

"Fred's right." Landon stated and they all turned to look at the Boy-Who-Lived, "The Slytherins have always supported Voldemort, remember the Chamber of Secrets?"

Everyone shuddered at the memory, the Weasely's had almost lost their sister that year and Hermione had spent months in the hospital wing petrified.

They were all silent, lost in their own thoughts, before Ron puffed out his chest, "Well, we can't help with much when we're at school but we can watch the slimy snakes for the Order. After-all, Malfoy and his lot will watch what they say around the Professors more than us, so we can catch them."

Hermione was staring at her boyfriend shocked that he had come up with the idea on his own before she smiled at him proudly and nodded in agreement.

"That's brilliant Ron!" Landon's hazel eyes glinted with purpose and an anticipation to start. He turned to look over the railings of the stairs as the adults began filing out of the kitchen catching sight of his Mum and Dad among the throng.

Just as Ron said, there wasn't much they could do to help with the war within the walls of Hogwarts but they could be on the look-out for Dark sympathises among the student body. Landon Potter was determined to stop Voldemort's influence from spreading into the ancient castle; he was the Boy-Who-Lived after-all, who could possibly fool him?

_XXX_

"Salazar's mercy! Where is that little cretin?!"

Draco grinned at Blaise's impatient growl but could sympathise with the other boy. Grey eyes once again scanned the enormous crowd only to sigh in frustrated disappointment.

"I can't help but see the irony right now..."

The two Slytherins turned to their smirking female friend.

"What irony?" Zabini snapped.

Daphne frowned in disapproval but answered anyway. "The one time we actually seek out his presence, the one time we genuinely wish to see him and Walker's nowhere to be found."

Draco shot her an unimpressed look but she merely stared back pointedly. The Malfoy heir barely managed to keep the scowl of annoyance off his face.

"Whatever cosmic joke you think is being played on us Greengrass, in the future, I ask that you please keep your scintillating revelations to yourself."

"Touchy." She sniped back.

Blasie interrupted the brewing argument impatiently, "Do we even know if the mud-blood is still breathing? And even if he was Daphne, I have no idea why you would think Walker would be here."

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I the only one of us that actually listened last night?" she drawled, "Or did you two not hear that he has been raised by Raven Nadine, _the _Raven Nadine. I would think that you at least Draco, would be more interested in that fact."

He was but he wasn't about to go around advertising the fact, instead, he stayed silent pretending to ignore his friend's words.

"Well, I want to know how Walker knew Dalton...and Cartus for that matter." Blaise steamed.

Daphne shrugged before leaving them to get herself a glass of fruit punch.

"...You really think he's going to show?" Blaise asked seriously once the Greengrass heir was out of listening range.

How was he supposed to know?! Draco's eyes narrowed as he spotted his Mother and Father speaking softly to another couple; the remnants of the large bruise on the back of the Malfoy Lord's head skilfully covered with long platinum hair.

"He either will or he won't, I don't know. But Walker did survive, I overheard that much. One way or another, we'll see him on the train tomorrow." Draco murmured. And the boy would tell him everything.

_XXX_

Narcissa watched the Dark Lord carefully throughout the evening. He hadn't spoken much but then again he wasn't known to. He was separate from them, apart. The man was impossible to read, his face and expression were blank and gave no hint to how he was feeling.

Dark crimson eyes swept over the enormous hall missing nothing. Burning with curiousity she silently followed his gaze through the crowds until she found the Dalton heir. The French wizard was the picture of icy indifference to those surrounding him but Narcissa only needed a minute to detect how tense and anxious the young man was and the way his eyes kept glancing up towards the large entry doors.

She glanced back at her Lord and saw with surprise the ghost of an amused smirk on his lips. What was going on here?

"Narcissa," The handsome Malfoy Mistress started in surprise before bowing with a murmured greeting at the silky call of her Master. "Come." He motioned to the deserted balcony and stalked through the glass panelled doors as she obediently trailed behind him to receive her orders, confusion and apprehension foremost in her thoughts.

XXX

Hadrian couldn't decide whether he should breathe a sigh of relief or annoyance. On the one hand, he had successfully made it to platform nine and three quarters with his life intact after rudely defying the Dark Lord and that could only ever be classified as a miracle but, on the other hand... he had successfully made it to platform nine and three quarters with his life intact after rudely defying the Dark Lord and the fact that he was still breathing meant that he was so far beneath the man's notice that he could curl up into a ball and disappear he was so insignificant in the world.

Hadrian shook his head at the absurdity of his thoughts as he pushed his trolley through the barrier. Was his self esteem really that low? No, if anything, he was arrogant. He knew he was better than those that surrounded him that was the problem. Lord Voldemort was powerful, unique, dangerous...he was a wizard clearly cut from cloth above others. It stung that such a man would sort him in with the rest of the rabble.

Hadrian glanced at the clock, nine thirty. The students and families wouldn't start trickling in for another thirty minutes at least. He waved his wand at his trunk and shrunk it before gracefully gliding onto the train confident that no one was around to see the unknown dexterity of his hidden persona.

He picked a compartment in the middle of the train knowing that Slytherin and Gryffindor preferred to take the ends and this location would keep him out of any pre-term squabbles between the houses. Closing the door behind him he erected privacy wards as he lay back against the seats.

One year. He just had to get through one more year and then he was finished. Hadrian smiled softly as the image played in front of his eyes. He would live his life how he wanted and he was determined to drop off the face of the earth if needed to accomplish that.

Hadrian glanced up at the sound of insistent pecking on the window and stood up to let the black owl into the compartment. He frowned as he stroked the bird's inky feathers, gently extracting the scroll from its sharp talons.

He eyed the yellow paper distrustfully glancing once more at the bird before breaking the seal.

Inhaling sharply through his teeth Hadrian hissed softly as the paper purposefully sliced across his palm cutting deeply. Glaring darkly at the parchment quickly becoming saturated with his blood he murmured a simple healing charm and watched with reluctant interest as the spell registered his blood and unlocked.

Flowing calligraphy formed across the parchment, the letters glowing an eerie ruby Hadrian knew was his blood.

_Bold, child. Too Bold._

Hadrian stared at the words as a bead of sweat slowly ran down his back between his shoulder blades. The parchment began to crumble to dust in his hands and Hadrian mechanically brushed them against his robes in a subconscious effort to get rid of the ash on his skin. Hadrian forced himself to unclench his muscles and open the window so the owl could return to its master.

Disobedience was not tolerated.

A small smile stretched across his lips. He did not delude himself into thinking that it wasn't the security of Hogwarts wards that increased his confidence here. He would be a fool to approach the Dark Lord right now, a dead fool.

No matter how precarious his situation with the Dark a small part of him was thrilled. He grimaced; annoyed that he should like the attention so much. It was pathetic and low.

He had one year of freedom from Lord Voldemort and he was determined to make the most of it. There was always the chance that the man will have forgotten about him by then but he doubted it. A Dark Lord couldn't afford to be so forgetful and Hadrian knew that such a direct dismissal of his authority would not go unpunished, no matter how much time passed.

Hadrian gazed out the window of the compartment as the students began trickling in. He sighed loudly and scowled. As if he didn't have enough on his plate with avoiding the Headmaster's attention. It had been one of his largest fears during his time at the magical school. Albus Dumbledore was cruel and manipulative. Hadrian had seen the subtle ways he had reeled in the most powerful and intelligent of the foreign students last year during the Triwizard Tournament and it had sent ice through his veins. The man was dangerous, just as dangerous as the Dark Lord. He horded the best and brightest witches and wizards like trophy's breaking their independence and original thoughts so that no doubt about him remained within them.

In some ways Albus Dumbledore frightened him like no one ever had. Hadrian was sure that the Dark Lord could be just as insidiously manipulative but he was already dark, that wouldn't change, so he needn't fear that his integral values could be altered by the man.

Hadrian glared at the immature students shrieking with excitement, hugging friends' hello and family farewell. He would address the problem when and if it came about, until then, he pulled out a book on advanced curses and began to read, he would make sure he made the most of his time. There were many things he wished to learn.

As he went to turn the page a small spot of grey ash on his thumb caught his attention. With deliberate slowness he brought his hand closer to his face, dull green eyes critical and frustrated as he gazed upon the evidence of the Dark Lord's message. The small blood ward hadn't registered on his scans of the letter and he was irritated with the knowledge that he didn't know a way he could have found its existence.

If there was one branch of magic that could rival the appeal of the Dark Arts it would be wards. They fascinated him. Wizards and witches usually didn't bother with acquiring knowledge of the art, not because its power and usefulness wasn't recognised but because of the time and vast amount of knowledge it took to master them. Raven herself had no patience with the craft, she said that she liked saying a spell and getting immediate results and Hadrian could understand the appeal. Wards were known to take days of calculations, preparation and 'dark' rituals in order to work but when you really knew the magic behind the wards, when you really knew what the runes and arithmacy did, you didn't need the days and weeks of preparation. A ward master was lethal in a duel, feared, respected. They could construct a lethal spell and trap in seconds.

Emerald eyes gazed down at the clean pad of his thumb in envy. He wanted to be able to do that. He would be able to do that.

Hadrian's head snapped towards the door feeling clumsy magic attempt to break his spells. Almost immediately, whoever it was tired of trying to unlock the compartment and departed.

"Idiots." He sneered before returning his attention to the tomb in his lap and quickly becoming engrossed with the dark impaling curse.

XXX

"Oh, come on! We're not stupid you know! Stop joking around Zabini." Pansy Parkinson hissed angrily.

"I'm not." Blaise growled back heatedly.

"You want us to believe that Hadrian Walker, the world's most feeble, cowardly mudblood, murdered a man in front of the Dark Lord? And that he somehow knows not only the Cartus family but the Dalton heir as well?! If you can't or won't tell us what happened during the summer, fine! But don't go making up fanciful stories you'll get a kick out of us believing!" Theodore Nott bellowed back.

"It's not a joke." Draco stated calmly and the tension in the compartment seemed to deflate with the lack of an emotionally charged reply.

Pansy and Theo exchanged unsure looks in the silence before the blonde finally spoke again.

"Walker?" Pansy echoed timidly.

Daphne gave her friend a grimacing look of assurance telling the only other female Slytherin that she felt the same level of bewildered disbelief.

"I can't believe this!" Nott exclaimed though it wasn't in argument but incredulity.

"We know...and we were there." Daphne said, her nails clicking against the wooden handle of her seat in agitation.

Draco allowed them both a minute to process the information before leaning over with a gleam in his silver eyes.

"I don't know about you lot, but I want to know exactly want the hell is going on with Walker."

Blaise snorted at his friends excitement but looked around to see the others nodding in agreement. Daphne reached into her robes and pulled out folded up parchment and a quill and ink.

"What's that for?" Pansy frowned in confusion as Greengrass transfigured a strand of her hair into a small writing desk with wheels that fit in the space between the five in the compartment.

The striking girl looked up at the four bewildered faces staring at her and blushed. "We should make a list of what we know and what we don't to keep track of. The answer might be staring us straight in the face and we just don't know it because we're not looking at the situation from the correct angle. This should help." She explained.

Theodore sent her an unimpressed look, "Where did you think of that?"

Daphne shrugged not taking her eyes off the parchment as she dipped her quill in the ink, "There's a lot we don't know," she said slowly her voice solemn, "I spent the whole Summer surrounded by the all manner of wizards and witches; politicians, world class duellers, merchants, business mongrels...I thought Moscow would teach me so much, give me a chance to show my strength...instead, those three months demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt exactly how little I do know." Finally, she touched quill to parchment, "I've got a lot to learn."

Pansy and Theodore were stunned. Daphne Greengrass didn't admit defeat or mistakes. Draco, however, adopted a pained expression and hummed in agreement.

"What the hell?" Pansy muttered, bug-eyed. "Draco, you're the second in our year! Nobody has had the guts to challenge you since you were fifteen except the Gryffindor Golden boy and his posse. Blaise, anyone with half a brain goes out of their way to stay on your good side! And Daphne! You can find out anyone's secret! You're third in our year and you pack one hell of a punch! Snap out of it! All of you!" She demanded loudly.

"You weren't there Pans," Blaise murmured, smiling at his friend's kind words, "You didn't see the way they...looked down on us." He bit out angrily. "And it wasn't for blood or position! They thought us incompetent. I thought the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang last year were just being arrogant and overconfident...we're not up to their standard." He spoke coldly, his eyes glacial and shaking at having to say the words out loud.

Nott swung his head to look at the similar infuriated expressions on Draco and Daphne's faces. He had always looked up to these three. There were, the 'cream of the crop' you could say, of Slytherins talent. There were all poised, arrogant and sure of themselves. For them to admit such...inferiority, Theodore felt a dawning comprehension of just how out of their depth they were. He swallowed past the dread in his throat and opened his mouth to speak into the silence.

"W-well...let's get started shall we?"

Draco shot his friend an unreadable look before nodding.

"His adoptive Mother is Raven Nadine." The Malfoy heir stated stiffly. The two in the compartment who hadn't known this fact seemed stunned for several moments and the only sound was the scratching of Daphne's quill on the parchment.

"But he's a Mudblood..."Pansy whispered in disbelief.

Theo nodded as if to prove them wrong, "he doesn't know anything about the magical world."

"And do you know this?!" Draco suddenly snapped and they both drew back in surprise at the outburst. "Do you know this?!" He repeated slowly. "Because I sure as hell don't."

"We've never actually asked him." Blaise spat out clearly disgusted with himself. "We've lived with him for six years and we never actually asked him if he was a Mudblood .We just assumed. Walker-hat kind of name is that? I've never had a real conversation with the whelp before, so I wouldn't be able to tell you if he did know anything about the magical world!" He snarled.

"Well if he wasn't a Mudblood, why didn't he say anything?!" Pansy argued.

"That's something we don't know." Daphne's soft voice quietened them again and she turned back toward the one point list. "He knows the Dalton heir." She stated and added it to the page in silence. They had already been told.

"Friends?" Blaise asked.

"He hasn't got any." Daphne answered.

"That we know of." Draco retorted hotly.

"Favourite class?" Pansy spoke timidly.

"He can hardly even do the homework!" Nott exclaimed.

Blaise frowned. "He killed a man; he seemed to manage that just fine."

Silence.

"...an enigma..."Draco whispered.

"What?" Daphne frowned at the blonde.

"An enigma." Draco said with more volume. "That's what the Dark Lord called him."

"An enigma?" Theodore Nott snorted in derision. "Hadrian Walker? Please."

"I don't know Theo," Pansy levelled her friend with a look, "did you think Walker was capable of murder?"

XXX

Long pale fingers held a cognac glass lightly as blazing crimson eyes stared into the fire.

That magic, he closed his eyes revelling in the memory, it had been...intoxicating. And the spirit, the strength hiding beneath that mask...a dark smirk fluttered across the sinfully handsome facial features.

The boy had been bold; he sipped from the deep glass enjoying the slight burn of the alcohol in his throat before opening his eyes.

He gazed up to the ceiling as his other hand caressed his wand.

He always got what he wanted.

XXX

Hi all! Hope you liked it! ;D Please just drop a review and tell me what you thought I'd be really grateful! :D


	9. Illusions and Forthwith

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_Thank you all for the awesome, AWESOME reviews and I will be answering them ALL don't worry! I thought you'd all enjoy the update as soon as I had it done though so...here it is! ;D_

...

Hadrian had to force himself to watch, from his unobtrusive place at the Slytherin house table, as the Hogwarts students slowly filed into the Great Hall for the Welcoming Feast.

It was important to observe the students, Hadrian knew that. Of course he knew, he just had so much on his mind at this point that falling back into the same old routine now that he was back at Hogwarts was proving more difficult than he had thought.

So much more attention would be focused on the school this year, if not by the ministry than Dumbledore for sure and all those who support him. Eyes, from both sides, would be on the students; amassing information about possible recruits or those likely to defect.

He must be some sort of weird masochist, Hadrian decided abruptly as he fought off a scowl.

His mind should be sharp, motivated by fear of exposure, concentrated entirely on making sure that his persona would hold up against the pressure of the intense scrutiny. Infuriatingly, Hadrian was instead feeling perversely excited about this year. He fought off a grimace; the challenge, the thrill...it did nothing but excite him. How pathetic.

Carefully, in what could easily be a casual perusal of the hall, Hadrian glanced down the long table of emerald and silver. Zabini, Greengrass and Malfoy, along with the rest of his useless year, were sitting not twenty places from him quietly conversing with expected blank expressions and window eyes.

His Slytherin classmates were a wild card at this point, he would have to wait and see if the Dark Lord had told their parents about him and if that information had been filtered down to their offspring or not.

Returning his dull gaze to the table directly in front of him he couldn't help feeling sceptical that they knew anything beyond what they themselves had personally witnessed. Voldemort saw all his followers as nothing but tools, wizards and witches to be used and discarded without remorse when their usefulness wore thin. Hadrian knew he could only guess and he had no solid proof but still, he didn't believe that Voldemort would have told them about his glamours, there was no reason to, no benefit.

Of course, the fact that the Dark Lord now had something to hold over him, so to speak, would no doubt be a sadistic pleasure the man wouldn't give up lightly.

He breathed deeply, frustrated. Still, he couldn't he certain that his year mates didn't know, he would have to wait and see what they did, let them make the first move before he could judge their knowledge. It wasn't very appealing but he couldn't see the impatient trio waiting very long to confront him.

The normal spark of irritation that came along with thinking of his housemates flared when Hadrian realised the very real possibility of their curiousity gaining the Headmaster's notice.

That couldn't be allowed to happen.

He raked his fingers through his brown hair in agitation. That's just what he needed, the arrogant stupidity of a bunch of pampered pure-bloods to draw him into the spotlight.

He needed to eliminate the possible threat as soon as possible.

He felt like the Slytherin trio was the three year old toddler holding their parent's wand having just heard the incantation of the Killing curse. And he, the immobile house elf staring down the wood in horror hoping against hope that the child would either become bored and not try to say the spell or decide, in an uncharacteristic show of generosity, to return the wand to its rightful owner without attempting to make the 'pretty green light'.

Merlin, Hadrian shook his head slightly, he was going to have to act quickly.

Hadrian drummed his fingers against his thigh in agitation, the action safely obscured from view beneath the table.

Then, of course, there was his head of house.

Some part of him could recognise that the man was a formidable wizard and a worthwhile opponent but the majority of him just couldn't stand even one lock of that greasy, dank black hair. Severus Snape had the ability to make his life a living hell if the desire struck him.

Hadrian didn't believe for one moment that the wizard was above petty revenge if he found out an eleven year old Snake had fooled him for the last seven years.

Through his fringe he surveyed his Potions Master critically.

His curiousity concerning the man and his genuine allegiances had never been answered to his ongoing annoyance. Snape covered his tracks well, even through the years that Lord Voldemort was thought to have been vanquished. It wouldn't surprise him if Severus Snape was one of the few that had never truly believed in his Master's demise.

He could well remember Raven's sudden obsessive interest in learning all there was to know about the Dark Lord's inner circle when he had been about seven years old. Professor Snape's name had been on the list. A double agent for the light, or so the story goes, Hadrian smiled thinly at the greasy haired man looking down his hooked nose at the rest of the hall.

No matter how much he personally disliked the man he couldn't ignore that he was a powerful wizard with a sharp mind. It would be disappointing if the Dark did not hold his loyalties, Hadrian conceded.

As he watched Professor McGonagall escort the first years into the Great Hall a wholly involuntary feeling of pleasure vibrated through him at the immense challenge he predicted this year would become. Hadrian also recognised with a pained grimace that that small satisfaction that he was feeling was an angle on the weakness that the Dark Lord had needed only minutes to capitalise on. His eyes narrowed in displeasure. Why hadn't he addressed this before? Thinking of how close he came to falling for the Dark Lord's manipulations still rankled him...frightened him. If the man could provoke such a calculated reaction from him after only minutes in his presence he dreaded to think what Voldemort would be capable of if he learned anything more.

The faint cry of the sorting hat sounded distant, submerged as he was in his thoughts. He refused for something like that to ever happen to him again. The man had unglued him, unnerved and fascinated him. It was unacceptable.

"Good evening. Welcome to Hogwarts those of you we meet for the first time tonight and welcome back to the rest of you,"

The sound of the Headmaster's voice captured Hadrian's concentration quickly and he turned his full attention to the puppet master.

"...As Mr Filch has requested I would like to remind you all that the Dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students..."

Knowing that he had a couple of minutes as Dumbledore continued with the annual announcements that never seemed to change in content, Hadrian took the time to scan through the Professors and his fellow students for any changes that would interest him.

Almost immediately, his eyes were drawn to the house table farthest from him; the Gryffindors and to three students in particular.

Landon Potter, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were seated together just like at any other meal. The know-it-all, unsurprisingly, was pathetically engrossed by the Headmaster's words; he could practically see the freaking stars radiating from her brown eyes from here. The Weasel was sighing and moaning about his empty stomach just like at any other time in his life. It was the Boy-Who-Lived that was acting different.

Hadrian narrowed his eyes.

In a world driven by acting, by masks, he relied on knowing those around him; their personalities, their insecurities in order to better judge their reactions. Potter's eyes weren't staring adoringly up at his mentor, nor was he laughing and talking with his red-haired best friend. Hadrian's persona depended on being able to predict others so that he may adjust his behaviour accordingly to be viewed in a specific way; his way. Hazel eyes were working methodically through each and every student with an odd contemplative and suspicious gleam that always seemed to be drawn back to the table of emerald and silver.

He would be damned if boy wonder was going to stuff that up.

Hadrian quickly lowered his eyes when Potter's gaze trailed over his part of the Slytherin table. He could only guess that the fast gloss over meant that he had been categorically disregarded for whatever it was the saviour was looking for. Hadrian stared at Potter, watching him repeat the same process over and over, always coming back to rest on his house.

He shook his head lightly. The Gryffindor Golden boy did know the truth of Lord Voldemort's resurrected, he reminded himself, his name was being dragged through the media's mud after-all... it was bound to have some affect.

Hadrian raised an eyebrow in thought, stupidity combined with brave paranoia...perhaps this year the boy-who-lived could serve as a source of amusement rather than irritation.

Convinced that Potter didn't possess the necessary brain capacity to be anything other than harmless, Hadrian turned his attention back to a far more dangerous opponent.

One he intended on sidestepping entirely if he got his way.

"...I would also like to take the opportunity to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor; Mr Sirius Black. Mr Black has fortunately agreed to take a year off from his auror work at the Ministry to teach at Hogwarts," The aged wizard beamed brilliantly and Hadrian had to force back a sneer of contempt. "Mr Black will also be one of two Professor's directing the new Duelling class this year." Three quarters of the hall seemed to explode with cheers which only became louder as the handsome, debonair looking wizard swept dramatically to his feet and bowed twice to the masses.

Duelling? The old man hadn't dared to attempt another class after the failure of Gilderoy Lockhart in his second year. Pulling an Auror into Hogwarts to teach was a telling move, one which spoke of concern and, his eyes swung round to meet the shocked and happy face of Landon Potter, worry for the boy wonder's safety.

It was a much more obvious move from the Headmaster than he was used to seeing. The wizard usually preferred the more subtle, cloak and daggers approach.

Hadrian tilted his head slightly as he surveyed the man, it was definitely telling. The man was worried, genuinely worried. He smirked.

"I am happy to say, that after much discussion between the faculty, the board of Governors and myself that we at Hogwarts will be introducing a number of new classes as electives for fifth years and up." Hadrian's back straightened and his eyes narrowed in dark suspicion on the twinkling wizard grinning out at his students.

He had enough presence of mind to hope that any who noticed merely took it to mean his displeasure at more work and nothing else but the majority of his mind was flying wildly through reasons the manipulative old coot would do this.

"Tomorrow morning, as the schedules are being passed out a list of the possible electives will be attached including the time and Professor overseeing the class. Some of these lessons will be taught on Saturday but students will be given the option of choosing their new electives for themselves so any who have a problem with this don't have to sign up." He chuckled.

That bastard! Hadrian exerted great effort to mould his face so it merely showed a boy caught up in his mind's day dreams. The only physical manifestation of his simmering anger was white clenched fists pressing harshly against his knees beneath the table.

"That said, each student must pick at least two and no more than six of the new subjects. As the new classes are simply electives and not core subjects you will have only one lesson a week and the Professors will be flooing to and from the castle during that time."

Merlin! Hadrian gritted his teeth together attempting to reign in his anger. How was it that even though the man was oblivious to his presence he still managed to hit him in one of the few places it would hurt? He felt like screaming at the man in frustration and if he was still in his first year with untested control he probably would have.

As it was, Hadrian forced down his unsavoury emotions easily enough.

In any other school or situation the thought of a whole list of different, more obscure magics to learn, would, no doubt, have been intriguing. But Albus Dumbledore was clearly the one behind such a move and Hadrian couldn't see the bastard endorsing the teaching of any particularly useful magic.

He didn't have the time for an extra class in his schedule, especially on a Saturday! Aside from his normal duelling work and spell repertoire enhancement he wanted to finally complete his animagus transformation and get started with wards. He didn't have limitless hours to throw away in what promised to be a superficial waste of bloody time.

"...I would also like to announce this year's Head Girl and Boy, Miss Hermione Granger and Mr Landon Potter, both from Gryffindor."

Hadrian's back straightened at the abrupt change in topic. Malfoy must be thrilled, his mind smirked wickedly.

Was it just him or were the cheers and expressions of the school less than enthused? It wasn't much, but the subdued reaction of the children to the announcement served as some small amusement to him.

The boy-who-lived was facing an obvious drop in popularity.

The Daily Prophet certainly had been busy this summer, effectively killing Dumbledore and Potter's credibility. It amused him to no end to see the futile, passionate efforts of both to prepare the public for Lord Voldemort's second reign of terror only to have their own support and power turn on them.

Poetic justice if you asked him. Raven hadn't been able to stop cackling for days when the first scathing headline was printed, announcing to the world that the Lord of the Light was too old and senile and their teenage hero a pathological attention seeker.

It was only with a well timed scratch of his jaw that Hadrian managed to successfully cover the malicious smirk in time.

"Everyone, please...tuck in!" Dumbledore smiled kindly waving his arms elaborately in the air, the amazed gasps of the first years telling Hadrian that the feast had materialised.

Discreetly rolling his eyes and further suppressing his anger at the class changes, he reached for the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him.

As he sipped from the goblet, surrounded by loud voices and conversation, he once again contemplated that benevolent grandfather image Albus Dumbledore projected to the public.

Sometimes, he wondered whether it was possible that the man's image stemmed from some kind of truth in his personality. Perhaps something that had dwindled away over the years.

Hadrian leant back and swung his legs over the long wooden bench, quickly climbing to his feet as the rest of the student body left for their house common rooms.

Or was it was simply all an illusion? A complex mask used to cajole and misdirect?

Safe, among the energetic mass of children, Hadrian tipped his head back, his dull green eyes locked on the enchanted night sky above him.

Hopefully, he'd never have to find out first hand.

Hadrian hung back from the rest of the group as they walked through the portrait hole where his Head of House, he knew, waited to deliver his customary start of term speech. He also had every intention of skipping it.

It didn't take him much effort to slip through the gaps between students and disappear down the stone staircase to his dorm. He hadn't stayed for the opening address since his second year, preferring to use the time to settle into his room and erect any wards he thought necessary instead.

Pushing open the plain wooden door he took in the six four poster beds with a sigh.

"Well, won't this be cosy." Hadrian chuckled to himself as he saw his name, Hadrian Walker, embossed on a golden plaque at the foot of the bed closet to the door. That wouldn't do at all. With a lazy flick of his wand he silently switched Theodore Nott's plaque with his own and promptly moved towards the bed closest to the window and naturally apart from the other five.

Scrubbing his eyes roughly with the heels of his hands he lay back on the bed, letting his eyes close after snapping the curtains around him shut with a subtle notice-me-not charm.

He couldn't deal with the idiocy of his roommates tonight.

"This is going to be a long year." He groaned pushing his face into the pillow, determined to get some much needed sleep before facing Hogwarts tomorrow.

...

"I am telling you Prongs, the bunch of kids at Hogwarts today wouldn't have lasted a week with the Marauders before cracking under the pressure." Sirius Black proclaimed loudly to the entire kitchen as he plopped down into the empty seat beside his best friend.

James Potter shot his friend an amused look while his wife simply rolled her eyes at the man's predictable antics.

"Yeah?" Potter laughed, "What's it like being back there? Sitting with the enemy?" The man laughed while others around them chuckled good-naturedly.

The grim animagus turned excited sapphire eyes on his partner in crime clearly preparing to launch into a complicated blow-by-blow of the evening before the soft call of his name distracted him.

Remus Lupin watched, as his previously unaware lover became conscious of his presence and a grin spread across his face.

"Moony!" Sirius yelled in happiness grabbing the werewolf in an enormous bear hug, acting as if he hadn't seen him for days rather than that morning at breakfast.

"Alright you two, tone it down. Some of us would like for this meeting to get started sooner rather than later and actually get home at a reasonable hour." Alastor Moody's gruff voice barked out, effectively killing the jovial mood.

"Of course Alastor, but it is always nice to hear the reactions of past graduates coming back to Hogwarts to teach. Each person always seems to have a different opinion and perspective that has never failed to amuse me." Albus Dumbledore intervened gently, twinkling eyes watching closely as Black's indignant expression softened along with Mad Eye's annoyance as he spoke.

"Albus, please. The meeting." Minerva snapped as the silence stretched through Grimmauld Place.

The Headmaster smiled, nodding to the aged witch on his left before turning to the impressive, dark skinned wizard standing next to the fireplace. "Kingsley? Do you have any new information or leads concerning the Aurors? Have you managed to persuade many more?"

The powerful Head of Aurors was silent for a moment before sighing softly and shaking his head negatively. "I'm sorry Albus, apart from the two dozen or so people in the department that we managed to convince throughout the summer, no one else is budging. If anything, it's become harder to speak to them about You-Know-Who lately. Most believe that if he really were back, as we've been saying, he would have made a move by now."

Dumbledore seemed sad, although, unsurprised by the comment but nodded his thanks to the man nevertheless.

"Edgar?"

A short, plump man in his early fifties started at the unexpected call but quickly sat up, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles in his ostentatious red velvet coat, brown eyes wide as he stared up at Dumbledore.

"Yes Albus?" His voice was unexpectedly smooth; slightly higher than was average but it was steady and self assured.

"You mentioned in last week's meeting that you were going to try and use your ten percent ownership in the Daily Prophet to attempt to temper the articles about Landon and myself. You were going to try and bring back the focus to the strange happenings at the last task of the Tournament and encourage any reports of Dark activity?" Dumbledore reminded the group thoughtfully and now many members of the order were looking at the unassuming man in hopeful expectation.

"Well, I have better news than Kingsley at least. I was able to stop a number of damaging articles about yourself and Potter from being published, thankfully. The Editor has given me her word that they will tone down the slanderous articles but she turned me down point blank at any revival of the Tri-Wizard story with a dark activity speculation angle. She just wouldn't have it, wouldn't hear of it." Edgar stated.

"Well, at least it's something." James Potter sighed and there were murmurs of positive agreement.

"Has anyone else anything to report that they believe is significant?" Dumbledore asked widely.

McGonagall cleared her throat and all seventy or so eyes focused on her, including the surprised blue of her mentor. "I thought it worthwhile to mention that only thirteen of the seventeen children sent Hogwarts letters accepted the invitation. Normally, nearly all choose to study at Hogwarts, every few years there is sometimes one, rarely two, but no more, that choose to attend a different school. This year, three of the four that declined have gone to Durmstrang and one to _Beauxbatons_."

"Okay...why is that important?" Tonks asked her face twisted in confusion.

Lily Potter leant forward with a shrewd look in her eyes, "Do you know what the blood status of these four children were Minerva?" she asked quietly.

Many expressions suddenly showed a dawning understanding and looked in interest to hear the answer.

McGonagall nodded stiffly, "Pureblood. All of them."

Lily leant back against her chair at the answer, "Have any of the upper year Slytherins transferred Albus?" She asked after a moment.

"No." The unexpected voice of Severus Snape startled some but Lily simply nodded her acceptance. However, when she remained silent, her eyes staring at her lap in contemplation, Molly Weasley spoke up.

"Minerva? Albus? Should this concern us for any reason?" she asked with a small frown in between her eyebrows.

"Yes, you stupid woman this should concern you." Snape snapped irritably ignoring the heated looks now being sent his way by her husband and numerous offspring in the room. They were nothing to him.

Ignoring the pinched look on her face he sneered and answered her with a patronising and sarcastically bitter voice. "It means that the pureblood families know more than they are letting on. It means that we should be concerned about why the neutral families of the last war are remaining silent about how they gained the information. It means that it is not the children of families supporting the Dark Lord which are exiting Hogwarts but the neutrals. It should concern you that these families felt the need to do this without a whiff of struggle or argument reaching us. And it means that the Dark Lord feels secure enough in his European power and contacts to 'encourage' the neutral families he is attempting to recruit to relocate their children."

Silence was heavy in the air as everyone in the room took in the harsh uncensored truth of the matter.

"Wow." Heather Wayley, a secretary from the Minister's personal offices breathed in shock.

"Although Severus could have put it another way, I had come to many of the same conclusions." Minerva stated.

"This is disturbing," Dumbledore said quietly and immediately all attention was on their leader, "We knew that Voldemort had been working on Europe during the summer thanks to Severus and others, but I hadn't realised that he was already so confident in his control over the mainland. Fleur, your family is quite influential in France I believe; can you shed any light on this issue?"

The young, talented veela shrugged, "The Delacours have always been a light family, it is well known in France. There is not much I can tell you that would be of any benefit." She said, "I heard from friends that all of the influential families of France disappeared for the Summer but have all returned over the last fortnight. No strange happenings in the Ministry, no daring political moves have been made...I don't know what else to tell you?"

"Thank-you Miss Delacour."

"So what?" James Potter spoke, "Is it overconfidence do you think?"

"It's a possibility Potter," Moody acknowledged, his ruined face pulled into a deep scowl.

"I can't believe that You-Know-Who has managed to spread so much influence already. It's just not possible." Hestia Jones laughed, but her voice was weak and unconvincing searching for agreement in others.

"Severus?" Dumbledore looked over his half moon spectacles at the Slytherin Head of House sitting elegantly in the back of the enlarged kitchen. His sallow face difficult to see in the shadows his form was deliberately placed in. "Have you heard anything?"

Snape took a moment to formulate his answer, arms folded against his chest. "...As you all know, the Dark Lord had me brewing numerous potions for him this summer. I wasn't privy to a lot of information, the man keeps all his followers on a need to know information basis only." Severus shot the scoffing Sirius a poisonous glare before continuing. "However," his volume increased as he stressed the word, "I expect to know more by this time next week."

The Potions Master locked eyes with the Headmaster and quickly explained in a stiff, highly defensive tone. "My Slytherin students will talk amongst themselves, so I may be able to garner a better picture of what happened this summer. We already know that the gathering in Moscow this year was enormous. Miss Delacour's comment about the French families is correct for Britain as well. They have all filtered back into the country over the last two weeks. I don't know for sure but logically, I assume that that means his concentration has shifted back to Britain."

James Potter sneered but said nothing while the Lord of the Light nodded with a thoughtful look and commented that he would be most interested in what Severus had to say next week.

"Oh, hey Albus," James called, a sheepish look on his face as the members of the Order slowly left the kitchen to make their way home now that the meeting had ended.

"Yes, my boy?" came the chipper reply.

"I, er, I just wanted to ask if it would be alright if we re-scheduled the duelling class to Saturday's? Kingsley couldn't clear my absence on a week-day with Fudge. Guy said something about public backlash if Captain of the Aurors was seen getting special treatment. Sorry, Albus." He smiled apologetically.

"Aw, a Saturday? You're serious James? Man, that sucks!" Sirius moaned.

"Quite alright my boy, quite alright. I think Mr Potter may even enjoy that more. Lily told me that your son was delightfully horrified as well as excited to have his Father teaching at Hogwarts this year. I'm certain that looking out of my office window on a Saturday to see two Potter's flying on the Quidditch Pitch will not be an odd sight in the coming months."

James laughed as he threw an arm around his wife's shoulders, basking in the happy regard of the Headmaster.

...

Draco couldn't help narrowing his eyes at the perfectly made and perfectly empty bed across from him as he waited impatiently for Blaise to finish getting ready.

As impossible as it seemed, Walker had given them the slip.

They had decided amongst themselves, much to Blaise and Theo's protest, to wait and observe the boy for a few days before they approached him demanding answers. Draco wasn't sure whether he was or wasn't surprised to find nothing in his peer's behaviour different at the Feast last night. Pansy had nudged him in the ribs half way through Severus's speech in the common room before leaning in and whispering that Walker wasn't there.

When they had arrived at the dorms, all that had greeted them was a curtained four poster bed and its silent occupant.

Draoc tapped his wand against his thigh in agitation. He disliked the boy. He was weak and snivelling and totally disinteresting. Yet... he now realised, that the one he had always dismissed with a disgusted sneer of contempt, held all the cards. He knew nothing about him. Nothing. And if there was one thing his Father had always impressed upon him it was to not judge a book by its cover and to always know everything about the people that surrounded you.

"Okay, I'm ready." Blaise said and hiked his backpack onto his right shoulder. "Let go." He added.

"Yeah...alright." Draco answered absentmindedly and, with one last look at the empty bed, swept out of the dorm and up the stairs to the common room, Blaise at his heels.

"Morning you two." Daphne inclined her head slightly, falling into step with them effortlessly as they walked to breakfast.

"Hey, what do you guys think of the new elective classes? As long as the old fool hasn't gotten his claws in too deep it sounds as though it may be fun." Blaise asked, "Wicked, even." He added with a grin.

Draco shrugged, "I don't know. It could be interesting I guess."

"Well I want to know how we're supposed to study for our NEWTS with all these extra classes." Daphne huffed.

"What?" Grey eyes were cautious yet patronising as they looked at her, "You think we'll really need them after we graduate?" He spoke quietly, aware that Hogwarts was hardly the best place to be speaking of such things.

Green eyes looked taken aback for a moment, startled at what he was alluding to but she quickly regained her feet and shot him a glare. "That doesn't matter. How are we supposed to learn all the magic well enough? You know, practice?"

Blaise laughed at his friends intensity, "I wouldn't worry about it Daphne, you heard last night, the classes are only going to be held once a week."

The girl grumbled beside them but acknowledged his words with a nod.

"So," Greengrass asked an almost eager look in her eyes, "Did you notice anything about Walker last night or this morning? I didn't see him come up from the dorms so I assume he was still there when you left."

Draco scowled at the reminder. "No."

"What? What does that mean? You must have noticed something?" she pressed with an exasperated look on her face.

"No, I didn't notice anything because Walker was already in bed by the time we got into the dorms last night and he was already gone when we got up this morning." Draco growled lowly.

Daphne's pale face morphed into one of surprise. "He was already gone this morning?" She turned her neck to look down the corridor in front of them with a frown. "I was up at six thirty looking through some Potion reference books and I didn't see him leave."

Zabini waved a hand in front of him as if to brush aside the matter, "Yeah, but you know how you get when your studying Daph, you're blind to the world. He probably stumbled and fell his way to the portrait hole with you none the wiser, completely absorbed in the different uses for three foot high fungi." He smirked.

She shot him a cold glare. "That is a gross over exaggeration Blaise and you know it. I'm telling you, he didn't leave the common room after six thirty. I would have noticed." She snapped back.

Draco sighed as the golden doors to the Great Hall came into view, wondering how their conversation had degenerated so much and irritated that it seemed to centre around Walker. He had better things to do with his time than contemplate the early morning fetishes of some spineless nobody. He determinedly ignored the fact that his thoughts had followed the same focus for days now.

He elegantly slid into his seat while murmuring a greeting to Pansy and Theo, his anger spiking when he realised that his eyes had begun to inextricably search out the House table for the elusive boy, seemingly, of their own accord.

"Mr Malfoy." The familiar dark call of his Godfather had him looking up into a pair of assessing black eyes. "Your schedule." He drawled an eyebrow rising at his Godson's slow uptake.

"Thank-you sir." Draco quickly took the outstretched piece of parchment and, as the man continued on down the table, flipped through the various sheets until he came across the list of electives.

_**Electives Timetable: Each student in year's five to seven must pick a minimum of two and no more than six classes. **_

_Animagus Transformation:_

_Monday Lunch_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall_

_Advanced Potion Classes:_

_Monday 4pm-6pm_

_Professor Severus Snape_

_Weapons Training:_

_Tuesday 7am-8am_

_Professor Issac Dollan_

_Advanced Creature recognition and Ingredient collection:_

_Tuesday Lunch_

_Professor Rubeus Hagrid_

_Advanced Conjuring:_

_Tuesday 4pm-6pm_

_Professor Augusta Longbottom_

_House-hold cleaning charms:_

_Wednesday Lunch_

_Professor Wendy June_

_Wizarding customs/law_

_Wednesday 4pm-6pm_

_Professor Gregory Holt_

_Survival Training:_

_Thursday 7am-8am_

_Professor's William Weasley and Nymphadora Tonks_

_Formal Wizarding Dancing_

_Thursday Lunch_

_Professor Valarie Moore_

_Wand Crafting _

_Friday 6:30pm-8:30pm_

_Professor Ollivander_

_**Duelling (compulsory for Seventh Years)**_

_**Saturday 11am-1pm**_

_**Professor Sirius Black and Professor James Potter **_

_*** Duelling is compulsory for seventh years but will not be counted as one of your options. If a student wishes to only take the two minimum required Duelling will have to be taken as a third class. **_

...

"Wow." Draco breathed and looked up to see the answering grins of excitement on his classmates faces.

"Right back at you." Blaise chuckled.

...

"Damn." Hadrian hissed angrily, clutching the parchment tightly between his fingers.

Three classes.

Oh, this was going to be a treat, he thought acidly as he shoved the forms into his bag and quickly exited the hall for his first class.

He'd only shown up for breakfast in the last five minutes only to have an agitated female prefect from fifth year shove his schedule under his nose and storm from the hall muttering furiously under her breath about disgraces and punctuality.

He had only needed seconds to find the particular parchment and even less for his temper to flare.

Hadrian had spent the last three hours in the Forbidden Forest working on his animagus transformation in a duel attempt to calm himself in anticipation for the day and a genuine desire to finally achieve his animal form.

Suffice to say; only one had been accomplished and forthwith destroyed within the space of ten minutes.

**...**

"Pardon me, but I was hoping that you would be willing to assist me."

The young, strawberry blonde secretary glanced up at the cool, sophisticated voice and seemed to freeze for a moment before she shook her short styled hair in an attempt to gather her wits.

"O-of course." She stuttered before her customary efficient self seized control of the embarrassing situation. "What can I do for you, My Lady?"

The beautiful, fey-like woman smiled icily before speaking. "I would like to access a file."

The young witch nodded her understanding quickly, knowing that the woman before her would not tolerate her fumbling twice. "That shouldn't be a problem, which file were you looking for?"

The tall, slender lady didn't answer right away; instead, she slowly removed her short, white satin gloves before fixing ice-cold eyes on the girl. "It is a restricted file, I believe." Her tone didn't change.

The twenty four year old secretary swallowed her nerves and met the stare as she spoke. "I'm very sorry, My Lady, but I don't have the authority to grant you access to any of the restricted files. You will need to ask the Head of Law Enforcement; Madame Bones, for the necessary permission to view them."

Tracy held her breath as she finished speaking waiting for the other's reaction. She knew that this woman must already be familiar with this information. It was well-known. She couldn't fathom why she thought Tracy, a mere secretary for the recording of general population information, would be able hand over the file.

"Miss Beaton," The lady smiled sinisterly and clasped her pale hands loosely in front of her. "I have heard that your Father isn't feeling well these days."

Tracy's brow puckered in confusion but she answered the un-asked questioned any-how, not seeing the harm. "Yes, I've had to admit him into St Mungo's." When the Lady continued to stare at her silently, clearly expecting more of an answer, she hesitantly continued. "The Medi-witches aren't able to tell me when he will be in a stable enough condition to leave." She answered slowly feeling strange and awkward about sharing such personal details about her life but unwilling to offend the woman in front of her.

"Mm, yes, terrible. And it is just yourself and your Father I gather?" At her nod the woman again smiled, "It must be difficult; handling all of the financial costs of your Father's medical care yourself."

Tracy nodded tightly but the frown she couldn't wipe from her forehead easily betrayed how uncomfortable she was feeling.

"Your job couldn't possibly pay a large enough salary." The lady exclaimed softly as if the thought had made her aghast.

"I work hard and I take the extra shifts whenever I can. I'm handling it just fine, thank-you." Tracy spoke tightly her eyes glassy with humiliation.

"Yes. Of course you are." The woman tilted her head to the left and considered the young girl in front of her. "I'd hate to see your Father unable to receive the medical care he so clearly needs if you ever lost your job though." She shook her head in sympathetic disapproval, "Youth of today, they never seem to have a back-up plan do they? Take your case, one wrong word from the right person and you could lose your entire income, just like that. It's terrible." She clucked her tongue and sighed but throughout her speech those icy orbs hadn't faltered from steadily widening brown.

The secretary, Tracy, could barely keep her hiccups and tears at bay as she stared at the beautiful lady in abject horror.

"Y-you..." she stuttered out, feeling like her whole world had just come crashing down. Was the woman saying what she thought she was saying? Did this type of thing actually happen?

The same small, icy smile that had appeared at the beginning of their exchange stretched slowly across blood red lips.

"The file, Miss Beaton?"

...

_HEY! I am terribly sorry about how long this chapter took to get out. My life just got insanely busy for a while there. The chapters should be out more frequently though, so don't worry. ;D_

_I would really love to hear what you thought of the chapter, it took me forever to finally get it done, so please just drop I review, I would really appreciate it. :D_


	10. Dark Cadence

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

"Watch where you're going!" A gruff voice spat in his ear as a meaty elbow shoved him aside.

Hadrian swayed dangerously before clutching at the only stable thing near him in an attempt to stop himself from crashing to the floor.

"Whoa, there!" A surprised, yet amused voice washed over him as strong hands grabbed his small, bony shoulders in an effort to balance him. "You alright there, lad?"

For once, the blush that stained his cheeks wasn't a carefully calculated lie but entirely truthful. Oh, how humiliating. He didn't even need to look up at the owner of the voice; he knew exactly who had caught him.

"Yes, thank-you, Professor Black." Hadrian mumbled before slowly stepping out of the man's personal space and tilting his neck backwards to look into laughing sapphire eyes.

"Best to keep your eyes up lad, it prevents others the perfect excuse to knock you down." He smiled, but his eyes held traces of pity.

Hadrian smiled back tightly, "I'll keep that in mind Professor, thank-you."

He wondered how pitying the man would act if he knew his precious god son was one of the bullies that endeavoured to make his life miserable. The boy-who-lived could do no wrong in the eyes of Sirius Black, a fact, which had become painfully obvious after their first Defence class of the year on Monday.

"Good. See you in class Wilson." Black bellowed over his shoulder as he joined the crowd of students rushing to the Great Hall for lunch.

"It's _Walker._" Hadrian hissed under his breath.

Stop it. This is what you want; invisibility, what you work for, he reminded himself sternly, his agitation subsiding but it didn't disappear. It disturbed him to realise that those reminders were not having as assuring an effect as they had had in the past.

"_...have you ever thought about the possibility of allowing just enough of your strength to shine through in order to show your power, while hiding the extent of its range?"_

Damn Dark Lords! Putting ideas into his head, unwanted ideas!

Sweeping unnoticed between the students Hadrian parted from the mass at the Great Hall and continued out onto the grounds.

"Tempus." He whispered.

_12:38_

"Crap." He was late. And that would draw attention. Hadrian raised an arm so he could curl his fingers under the strap of his back pack and began to jog toward the small group of figures gathered around the games keepers hut.

Advanced Creature recognition and Ingredient collection, one of the two electives he had chosen for two equally simple reasons. It was the only class, apart from house-hold cleaning charms and Wizarding dancing, that was held in the one hour timeslot allotted to Lunch and...it was taught by Rubeus Hagrid. In other words, it was sure to have a small student membership. He smirked.

Five meters out from the group he slid fluidly into a brisk walk and covered the remaining space separating them.

"...nd you'll need to be extra careful, you lot. You're all 'ere because you are obviously interested in magical animals and plants so that's what I'll be teaching ya! But! We'll also be looking for the more rare creatures and I don't want any of you to worry, some of them are thought to be dangerous but I'll be teaching you how to safely approach them."

Hadrian raised an amused brow at the concerned looks most of his class mates were now sporting before turning sharply at the sound of heavy breathing approaching him from behind.

Oh, sweet Merlin, why him?

"Sorry I'm late, Hagrid! Snape held me back after class." Landon Potter grinned lopsidedly.

"S'no problem, Landon. You didn't miss much; I was just telling your classmates 'ere that we'll be focusing on the more volatile creatures and plants within the Forest and to be on their guard." Hagrid informed the Gryffindor with an answering grin.

Hadrian wanted to grimace as he was forced to watch the gooey camaraderie at play. He'd never taken Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors before but he'd heard stories of the casual affection that existed between the half giant and the Golden Trio. He was not happy to see that they were correct.

"Okay everybody! I want you to find a partner. This person is going to be responsible for watching your back while we're in the Forest, you're to look out for each other, make sure one of you don't fall behind, that sort of thing."

Hadrian felt the usual curl of annoyance in his belly at the sound of group work but turned to face the other five students obediently anyway. He stood silent, waiting, like always, for them to sort themselves out first.

"Um, L-Landon do you want to be my partner?" He didn't know why but the sound of a small, timid voice immediately caught his attention.

The boy-who-lived looked supremely uncomfortable as Neville Longbottom rang his hands together, his brown head bowed and locked with the ground at his feet. It was obvious, the way hazel eyes were glancing hesitantly at the boy in front of him and back to the three other students that the Boy Wonder didn't want to be stuck with Gryffindor's walking disaster. Hadrian crossed his arms and eyed the situation in amusement as both boys sweated in the lengthening silence.

"L-Landon?" Longbottom glanced up, his brow drawn in a confused frown. "Did you hear m...?"

The plump wizard was cut off as Padma Patil swept up beside them and wrapped her arm intimately around Potter's waist.

"Sorry I took so long partner, I was talking to Lisa about something." She smiled sweetly but her black eyes were laughing as she looked at the red-haired wizard beside her in what she thought was a sly, inside joke.

Neither Potter nor Patil saw it, too busy making eyes at each other, but Hadrian watched with surprised interest as Longbottom's face dropped and a furious snarl twisted his lips before all evidence disappeared as the Gryffindor Golden Boy turned back with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry, Neville. We'll catch up later okay?" Potter didn't even wait for an answer before he and Patil walked over to Lisa Turpin and Justin Finch-Flechy, leaving their classmate behind.

Hadrian let his eyes run over the wizard. He had felt a spike in the other's magic when that bitter sneer had appeared and no matter how angry or desperate a wizard became the amount of power they possessed could not grown, sharpened yes. But it couldn't magnify. Neville Longbottom; Gryffindor's outcast, squib and coward, Hadrian let his arms hang loosely at his sides and took a step forward making sure to keep his steps silent. He smiled thinly as Longbottom whirled around to face him having felt the small, subtle jabs of his magic.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was more than he seemed.

He came to a stop and peered at the boy for a moment before speaking, "Partner's Longbottom?" his tone was soft and unassuming.

"A-alright."

The stuttering amused him, he'd used it himself enough times but he could read real hesitancy in those brown eyes. He frowned lightly; no-one in Hogwarts was hesitant around him.

"Excellent." He took a step forward and his dull green eyes widened significantly in astonishment as Longbottom seemed to jerk backward, the movement awkward, as if he had had to force his body to stay where it was.

He didn't even bother to hide the narrowing of his eyes. Without thought of the consequences he pierced the other with his stare.

Brown eyes met his gaze proudly, a chin jutted out slightly and Longbottom seemed to grow in height as his spine straightened and his shoulders fell.

It was challenge, he realised with shock.

His glare darkened and became icy with threat.

What the _hell_ did this boy know?

Hadrian could feel the slight tingle around his irises and knew the glamour around his eyes was failing. The dull green was probably lightening to a stunning emerald colour even now.

It took the flash of apprehension and fear in those suddenly hard brown eyes to bring him back to the present and Hadrian hastily slammed his eyes closed.

"Hey! Neville and um...well, Neville bring yourself and your partner over, we've got exploring to do." Professor Hagrid's voice boomed uncertainly across the grounds, clearly unsure about not knowing the name of the other member of his class.

Hadrian turned sharply to the left when he felt Longbottom take a hesitant step toward him, concern and irritation near wafting off of him.

What the FUCK had the idiot got to be irritated over?

"Okay, Professor! We're coming!" Longbottom yelled back.

Hadrian wasted no time; the moment the boy's attention was divided he began murmuring under his breath in Latin, hoping to catch the glamour around his eyes and rebuild it before the whole thing collapsed. If it did, he'd need his wand to re-apply it and that would hardly be subtle now would it. He was a master at what he did but even he would need more than a moment to come up with a believable explanation as to how a beginning seventh year knew the wand movements to an advanced auror level glamour.

He clenched his teeth in anger as he felt the spell resettle into his irises.

"Have you got a hold of yourself yet, Walker?" The hissed reprimand had him snapping open his eyes and connecting with sardonic brown. "Good." With that Longbottom turned his back on him and trudged toward the rest of the group.

Before the boy had a chance to get very far Hadrian wrapped a pale hand around his wrist and leaned in close, his movements all deceptively casual. The body close beside his tensed like an animal that was intelligent enough to know that running, when in the grasp of a predator, was futile.

"Don't be smart." He breathed next to his ear, letting the dark, silken quality of his natural voice ring true. He felt the shiver in Longbottom's body and chuckled lowly before gliding past, the whole encounter appearing as if he'd simply misjudged his steps and brushed up against the other for a moment before moving on.

He spent the rest of the class observing Longbottom out of the corner of his eye, his anger at his own lapse in control diminishing when he noticed, with amusement, that the sporadically blushing boy was doing everything in his power to keep his eyes from straying to his figure.

Although surprising that Longbottom was hiding the extent of his magical abilities his unsteady reaction to both his intense scrutiny and close contact were evidence that the concealment did not extend to his confidence and personality.

He leaned back in the simple, wooden chair letting the book on warding drop onto the semi-large circular study table before him. No, he frowned at the stone ceiling; it was the boy's peculiar reaction to _him_ that had his thoughts agitated and begging release from the puzzle. He hadn't figured him out from observing him at Hogwarts, Hadrian was sure of that. If he had dropped enough hints of his true personality and capabilities as to warrant such an extreme reaction of distrust and wariness like he had experienced this morning, there were many other witches and wizards in this castles that would have caught him before Neville Longbottom.

Hadrian stared at the tall shelf of library books opposite him, his turbulent thoughts seeming to mimic the chaos of the organisational system. So where was he getting his information? He'd already written to Raven asking her what she knew of the boy's grandmother, Augusta Longbottom but he had at least three day's wait before he could expect a reply. At least he needn't worry that the boy would say anything, his reaction spoke of a prior knowledge not a sudden epiphany, of that he was certain.

"Good Evening."

The smooth, confident greeting had Hadrian glancing behind him in feigned surprise. Despite having known exactly who had been approaching him he still had to forcibly stop himself from sighing in exasperation as his eyes fell on three familiar figures.

"Greengrass." He murmured back softly, his tone neutral. "Malfoy, Zabini." He nodded once to each.

The Hadrian Walker Hogwarts knew wasn't a spineless whelp, rather, a closet coward that was easily spotted. He drew less regard this way. A snivelling runt, after all, would be the clear target of any inter or intra house disputes, he'd never get any peace. This particular personality trait was a major contributor to his ability to fly beneath the radar, one he was both proud of and enjoyed.

The striking young woman smirked as if she'd won some small battle he couldn't hope to understand and smoothly slid onto the open seat on his left.

"You are a difficult wizard to find Walker." She said offhandedly but Hadrian detected the irritated tenseness in her hands easily enough.

He smothered his smirk; it was just like these three to assume that his hard to pin down geographical location must be from a direct wish to avoid them. "I hadn't been aware that there were individuals seeking my presence." He answered slowly as if he were picking his words carefully.

"What in blazes names are you doing way back here anyway, Walker? There is a reason nobody ever sits in this part of the library: it stinks of cat pee and you need to constantly cast the lumos spell to be able to see what the hell you're doing!" Zabini snapped out as he sat in one of the chairs furthest from him, but by the way his eyes looked at Malfoy in search of agreement he wasn't looking for a response from him.

"Hush Blaise." Greengrass's voice was gentle on the surface but there was an undercurrent of steel that Hadrian was sure the others didn't believe he had the intelligence to catch.

Malfoy was observing silently from where he was leaning against the old tomes but Hadrian noted the concentration in those mercury eyes. Out of all his year-mates, in third year he had come to the conclusion that, while he may find him distasteful and irritating, the Malfoy Heir was the one with the greatest potential. He was a powerful wizard, nothing exceptional but far enough above the average to be noticed. And he was intelligent, as loathe as he was to admit it. The boy was simply pampered. His parents had made sure he wanted for nothing and Hogwarts had never stretched him enough for him to really reach his potential. He had never been put in a situation where he _needed _to reach his potential.

But the skeleton was there and Hadrian would be a fool to not recognise that and adjust himself accordingly.

"Can I help you with something?" Hadrian kept the annoyance out of his voice with effort but really, this immature attempt at an interrogation was grating on him.

It was so utterly...childish.

"Why, I am glad you phrased it that way Walker." Daphne smiled archly.

That arrogant spark in her eyes was really beginning to annoy him. He read her easily enough, she was better than most of her peers but her attempt to wipe all expression from her features barely impeded him. She was confused and wary by so obviously having missed something crucial about him. It was making her uneasy, he noted, as it would any Slytherin to have so clearly miscalculated. But behind that he saw her confidence, the type of unyielding confidence that only comes with the belief of individual superiority.

If he hadn't been dealing with the old coot's unwanted influence in his life, Longbottom's mysterious knowledge of him and the awareness that it was only the existence of Hogwarts wards that have saved him from experiencing a Crucio from a testy Dark Lord that he slighted, Hadrian might have been amused. He had been worried that the Slytherin trio might draw the correct conclusions; that they had severely underestimated him and his capabilities, after this summer's fiasco. He needn't have bothered, he realised. Their arrogance blinded them to all of the possibilities. They merely addressed the ones that suited them. Again, at any other time he probably would have found this entertaining, as it was; their seemingly intrinsic idiocy just pissed him off.

"How was your Summer Walker?" Daphne asked offhandedly but her eyes were sharp and ready to catch any incriminating details.

Hadrian considered the pureblood heiress attempting to outmanoeuvre him. On the one hand, he could use this moment to completely solidify her belief that while circumstances surrounding him may be interesting and unexpected they did not necessarily extend to him personally. She was still unwilling to consciously admit to the apparently inconceivable possibility that Hadrian had fooled them all. It would be simple, far more effortless than he had envisaged...but it wouldn't give him much room to move like he was beginning to believe he might need to this year.

Perhaps...a different strategy? One that would mean he wouldn't be having thoughts of how to hide three dead and decaying bodies from the searching authorities.

With an almost sadistic enjoyment Hadrian began to elegantly construct his response. His persona had become far too easy to manipulate over the years. The knowledge of how crucial this alteration would be sent a small thrill through him like only a challenge could.

"Walker?" Zabini called loudly his tone annoyed, "What's wrong with the guy?"

"Blaise," Malfoy's voice was quiet but it rose with warning, "shut-up."

"Walker? Your Summer?" Greengrass pressed and her eyes widened in glee when she read the nervous look that suddenly dominated Hadrian's features coupled with his apparently clumsy attempt to wipe such betraying emotions from his face.

Malfoy's arms unwound and he took a step forward, his eyes interested. Even Zabini's face showed a reluctant curiousity.

"I-it...um, it was," Hadrian closed his eyes briefly and breathed slowly as if to calm himself before locking his dull green eyes on hers. "It had some unexpected moments, however, all is well...And you?"

He felt like grinning as she stared and then fumbled for words to reply. Her surprised brown eyes stared at him for several moments as the beginnings of a frown twitched between her carefully shaped eyebrows. His initial scramble and intimidated expression had been expected. It was the completely lucid and articulate words that followed that had thrown her. Greengrass had clearly approached him having already reached her conclusions; she had not expected any surprises or deviations from the planned path of conversation.

Hadrian took note of the narrowed mercury eyes with a small amount of surprise. Perhaps the Malfoy heir was more perceptive and closer to accepting all possibilities than he had thought.

"...it was a very informative break. I met several new people that I had wished to make the acquaintance of but of course, you know all about that." She stared at him pointedly for the seemingly subtle reference. Her look practically screamed her assumption of knowledge and Hadrian scrunched his toes together inside his shoes as the first real flare of irritated anger ignited within him.

Ignoring his ire he stared into her haughty eyes in silence, his expression blank and unresponsive. He waited for the exact moment when her gaze relaxed slightly and flickered in frustration.

Raising an eyebrow he subtly straightened his back from his forced slouch and smiled thinly, "Of course."

Zabini's jaw ticked in agitation, "Come on Walker! You know what we're asking!" He growled, exasperated with the word play.

Daphne herself was feeling a sort of shocked disbelief. She had been sure that it wouldn't take much to make him cave and that was preparing for the unlikely instance that he would offer resistance.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Hadrian replied in a calm, neutral tone.

Hadrian watched with amusement as Greengrass's eyes lit up with infuriation before she pushed back her chair roughly and leaned toward him, her hands resting on the dark wooden table.

"How do you know Gabriel Dalton?" She demanded quietly but her words were tense with emotion.

Hadrian didn't react to the poor attempt at physical intimidation; rather, he slowly pushed his own chair back and started the process of gathering his books, parchment and quills.

"He's acquainted with my Mother." He answered solemnly as if he were reluctant to part with such personal information.

"You know that she was a Black, don't you?" It wasn't so much the patronising tone of the words but the fact itself that had Hadrian pausing in his task and raising his eyes to meet mercury.

"Yes, I know." He murmured, but for the first time his tone was clipped and less than absolutely polite and neutral.

"Walker, we ha..."

"Goodnight." He said stiffly, cutting Greengrass off rudely and before any of them had a chance to protest Hadrian allowed his natural smoothness to carry him away and out of library. As soon as he escaped from the suddenly stifling room Hadrian forced his gait to shorten and adopt the familiar shuffles his persona lived with. He turned left, lifting his feet as he travelled up the impressive marble steps, travelling down stone corridors and onto moving staircases, slowly climbing higher.

He pushed the simple wooden door of the astronomy tower open as he waved his wand, silently casting powerful privacy wards. Without a word he shut the door behind him, glad that no students had decided to use the location for its famous purpose tonight. He supposed even the most reckless of rule breakers obeyed curfew for the first week of school.

Hadrian let his glamour's fade away as he stalked forward to one of the wide open spaces. Leaning heavily against the freezing cold stone of the castle he just let his eyes take in the picture. There was a slight breeze whistling through the turrets and it played with his coal black hair as if happy for him to have it back. The odd sound of an owl's hoot from the owlery on the adjoining tower was familiar and welcoming.

It was still.

Asleep.

Yet, as he stood motionless in the uppermost part of the magical castle the pounding pressure of his thoughts wouldn't abate.

...

_"Do not lie to me boy, you're features are clearly aristocratic and I can sense your magical aura so you must be a pureblood. Which family do you belong to? Speak boy, before I lose my patience, I am not above cursing a child." She spat acidly._

...

"_You know that she was a Black, don't you?"_

...

"_So the only reason you disguise yourself so completely is merely...curiousity and cunning?" The Dark Lord taunted, "And the very real reality of you being removed from your guardian's care should her identity be discovered has nothing to do with your mask." _

...

Raven.

His Mother.

The day he had learnt he would have to hide himself was one that stood vividly amongst his memories. He had been ten years old. They had been walking through the forest surrounding their home as they had done countless times before. Raven used the time to teach him about magical plants and their properties; how to collect them and what they were used for. Other times Raven used the long walks to teach Hadrian about magical creatures. The two spent hours wandering through the trees discussing some of the most unique magical species in existence.

"_I'm a widow, Hadrian."_

He could still remember the way his whole body had frozen with those four words. Before that day he had never really thought about Raven having a life which hadn't included him. Just as he felt like his life had only really started when he had met her, so had Hadrian's child-like thoughts assumed it had been the same for her.

He had been foolish.

She was Lady Raven Black Nadine...or she had been, until her title had been stripped from her. Her husband, as she told him, had been Alexander Nadine, a prominent and powerful pureblood, which her parents had arranged for her to marry. Despite that fact and despite being raised in the harsh, cold house of the Black's she had come to love him.

Hadrian sneered as he looked out at the water of the Black Lake.

Love.

It was love that broke her.

Raven is a dark witch. Even if she did not agree with her family's coldness towards each other and their bloodthirsty nature she was still one of them. She still revelled in that raw feeling of power.

Alexander had not.

Hadrian caressed his wand absentmindedly; his brilliant verdant gaze penetrating the darkness around him, his mind caught in memories.

Alexander had been a Death Eater. Being who he was, it would not have escaped notice if he refused to take the mark.

But he betrayed the cause. He turned spy to Dumbledore.

The pain in Raven's voice as she had recounted the events to Hadrian had baffled him. The man had betrayed the Dark, betrayed his magic and betrayed _her_ but still she felt loss.

Hadrian had felt rage.

Her feelings had allowed her to become weak and susceptible to manipulation.

Alexander Nadine was inevitably discovered and killed for his treachery and an unaware Raven arrested and brought before the ministry. Before his death her own husband had given Albus Dumbledore pensive evidence of her affiliations with the dark. Her own husband turned her in. The one she had _loved _for almost a quarter of a century_. _

Thankfully, she had never been marked so the ministry was unable to sentence her to a stay in Azkaban but they took everything else.

Her title of Lady was stripped from her. Her money. Her estates. Her status.

They ruined her.

Alexander Nadine had been the cause of many murders in the Dark families and listening to reason hadn't been high on their agenda. She was his wife and, therefore, complicit.

The Light would not have her...but neither would the Dark.

He breathed evenly as he looked out at the lightening sky before lowering his eyes to the skin on the back of his hand. Lying between the thumb and index finger was a pitch black symbol. Hadrian slowly traced the outline as he has done millions of times before. Even Raven was unaware of its existence. His instincts had always warned him to keep it covered, out of sight. Green eyes watched as the mark began fading from sight, his fingers soon tracing nothing but smooth white skin.

Raven's past was indeed a reason he hid behind his mask.

He turned abruptly and swept from the tower, pulling the wooden door shut behind him with a swift yank.

But it wasn't the only one.

...

Knits and grime.

Sweat and cold.

Blood and water.

Mud and dust.

That was his life now. He had no idea how long he had existed like this.

How long it had been since he had heard something apart from the crashing waves against hard stone and insane, terrified screams.

How long it had been since the sight of these three walls and thick metal bars had been his home.

How long it had been since he had tasted anything beyond the maggoty bread and dirty water they shoved into his cell once a day.

How long it had been since he had touched something that wasn't the damp, crumbling stone surrounding him.

How long it had been since he had smelt fresh air filled with the scent of dark green conifers in the early winter.

How long had it been?

The eerie sound of chains rattling and shaky, cold breath approached him and the bone chilling cold once again invaded his withered limbs. His guards were back. The dementors passed his cell at least three times a day and each and every time he battled and pushed and mentally screamed against his limits, forcibly pushing his mind beyond the shield where they couldn't touch him.

Each time he successfully submerged his mind he was sure he wouldn't be have the energy to do it again. Yet, each time he dove deeper and deeper to find the necessary strength.

But this time was different. He heard the screams and yells and explosions distantly, as if he were underwater. But the sounds were getting louder, calling, calling...him?

His mind emerged with a strangled gasp of familiar freezing air, piercing his lungs with ice and intensity.

"...o! Open the cell doors, you fool! Quickly! This is the maximum security area of Azkaban we need to move swiftly in case any traps or safeguards activate!"

He groaned softly and tried to stand but his muscles were too weak and he barely moved from his crouched position on the floor.

"In here! I need some help! No! Lift the damn thing!"

"Expelliarmus!"

"Avada Kedavra!"

"I've got Greyback!"

"Stupefy!"

"Get them out of here, you fool!"

He jerked; at least he tried to, as the metal bars that had been his cage for however long he had been here were violently blown apart. Two men in black robes, wearing the familiar white skull masks walked quickly into the room and hauled him up from the stone floor. He cried out at the pain of putting weight on his wasted legs and collapsed between the pair, the only thing keeping him upright the strong unyielding grasps under his arms.

Another strode through the smoke and into his destroyed home. He came forward, rising his arm at the same time to lower his mask. Achingly familiar platinum blonde hair tumbled from beneath the hood.

"Lucius." He barely managed the raspy, destroyed whisper that emerged from his throat but the Malfoy Lord smiled gently and placed a hand on his emaciated shoulder.

"Yes, it is I old friend."

He felt the sob rise in his chest and his hands trembled more than they had even a moment ago but he pushed it down. He still had his pride.

The hand on his shoulder tightened.

"You're free _Rodolphus_**.** Free."

...

Lily hummed softly as she wiped down the kitchen bench tops with the damp tea towel, enjoying the monotony of the simple muggle action.

"James," she called up the stairs, "you're going to be late." Shaking her head she walked back into the kitchen, or at least she tried to, before strong arms caught her from behind and pulled her against a warm, firm chest.

"Mmm, you smell devine." James breathed in her ear and she smiled before successfully escaping the hold and turning around to face him with a bell like laugh.

"Oh, James, really, how are you going to explain being late to a class when you are one of the two Professors teaching it." She smiled.

He grinned at her roguishly as he walked towards the fireplace, "I'll just tell them that I have a devilishly beautiful wife that loves to keep me in bed late on Saturdays." He winked as he grabbed a fist full of floo powder.

Lily gasped, "Don't you dare say that James Potter!" she yelled. Watching in fond exasperation as her laughing husband disappeared in a blaze of flame to the Headmaster's office.

"Honestly," she mumbled to herself before a sound from the window distracted her. Turning around, Lily quickly moved towards the small kitchen window to let the postal owl, pecking agitatedly at the glass, inside.

"Thank-you." She said politely as she slipped two knuts into the leather pouch attached to its side and watched the owl fly off, before carelessly unfurling the Daily Prophet.

_MASS AZKABAN BREAK-OUT! THOUGHT TO BE THE WORK OF MASS MURDERER PETER PETTIGREW! 12 MAXIMUM SECURITY CRIMINALS NOW ROAMING FREE!_

"Sweet merciful mother." Lily whispered brokenly, green eyes wide and unseeing as the paper fell, floating to the floor.

...

_Hey! A lot of questions answered here huh? Did you like it? Please review! _


	11. Pandemonium

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_I wanted to get this chapter out as soon as I had it done but don't worry! I will be answering all reviews! :D_

Pandemonium. It was the only word to describe the sudden and stark panic that gripped most of Hogwarts occupants as clusters of owls swept into the Great Hall delivering the news.

It was amusing, to say the least, watching the Boy-Who-Lived rapidly drain of colour in the middle of eating a pork sausage. Poetic, almost.

With a carefully placed gulp, to show his persona's fear and uncertainty and what looked like an amateur appraisal of his housemates; conducted with obvious shifty eyes, Hadrian allowed his reaction to be recorded by any in the hall who bothered to notice. He shaped, with an artist's precision, every detail. Hadrian counted the seconds before he clumsily attempted to appear self important and pathetically arrogant amongst his peers. As if it were his deep wish to be seen as 'part of the gang', while achingly obvious that he wasn't.

Individuals were suddenly looking at the Gryffindor hero in uncertainty, wondering if maybe his words about the Dark Lord's return now held any credence. Hadrian was in the process of reaching for his fork when a tingling on the palm of his hand distracted him. Pausing in the action, he rubbed his thumb nail across the irritated skin quickly relieving the itch.

As interesting as the fact of the breakout was, Hadrian was unsurprised and quickly bored. The Dark Lord had been growing stronger all summer. What had the Light side expected? Some of his top Death Eaters were in the Wizarding prison. His most loyal. It was an obvious move. Confident, yes, but they had faced Lord Voldemort before, had they expected anything but confidence?

Yet, the Headmaster looked pale and determined while Snape spoke quickly into his ear. Watching the pair unobtrusively he once again speculated on where the Slytherin Head's loyalty really lay. Was the man currently defending his apparent lack of knowledge from a genuine perspective or not? It was evidence of just how good the man was that Hadrian couldn't read him.

A thought occurred to him and he quickly searched the Gryffindor table for Neville Longbottom. It was always telling; how a person acted when emotional. The escape of the three Lestrange's would not doubt engender such a reaction and he wanted to be sure to see it.

Shaking, white, fit to faint it seemed. Completely and totally pathetic.

He sighed and returned to his breakfast. Longbottom was better than he had thought.

...

Hadrian absently scratched the palm of his hand as he listened to the Gryffindor Head of House speak.

"As seventh years it is my expectation that you will keep an eye on the younger students. It is a responsibility that comes with becoming legal witches and wizards; to protect and aid those less capable than you..."

Hadrian let his eyes drift amongst the crowd of his peers, noting the disinterested Ravenclaws, sceptical, yet, willing Hufflepuffs and the determined Gryffindors.

A growl of annoyance from behind him caught his attention,"...Salazar, doesn't the woman ever shut-up?"

Ah, yes, of course, the Slytherins. Arrogant; as always.

"She does. But, if I were you, I'd hope to never be the reason for Minerva McGonagall to become silent. Cat's do have vicious tempers, you know."

Theodore Nott jumped at the masculine voice currently chuckling from behind him before he turned around and sneered at the handsome man.

"Oh, don't be so sore." The man laughed, turning many heads as the person brave enough to make a sound, let alone one of hilarity, when the Transfiguration Professor was speaking.

"Mr Potter! Really!" Came the aforementioned woman's squawk of outrage.

A bark of laughter tightened the skin around Hadrian's eyes as he suppressed his mounting irritation. "You haven't been back more than five minutes and you've already got Minnie in a tizz! Prongs! You have not lost your touch." Professor Black grinned as he wrapped an arm around Potter's shoulders and hustled him through the crowd to come to a stop beside their female authoritarian.

Hadrian turned his head to the right slightly, seeming to follow the action with everyone else, as he slyly moved into the shadows cover.

"...Right! Everyone separate into you houses and we'll..."

Potter's grating voice faded as Hadrian escaped from the duelling class. He had quickly come to the decision that even though it would surprise others to know Hadrian Walker had the guts to cut a class, a fear of duelling was enough of a cowardly excuse to be readily believed in the unlikely circumstance that one would notice and then remember to follow up on his absence.

With a hiss he turned his hand over and glared at the red skin on his palm before waving his wand and silently casting a cooling charm over the area.

The whole school was tense. It was obvious. Black and Potter had been putting on a show of good humour for the children but it didn't erase the tight skin around their mouths belying their nervousness.

As Hadrian made his way back to the dorms he thought back on his turbulent summer. That night he had been summoned was one he could recall with perfect clarity. The ice which had shot through his veins and the unrelenting thumping of his heart still echoed in his ears. The Death Eaters that made up Lord Voldemort's inner circle were formidable witches and wizards, he knew that. Stories from the first war spoke fearfully of instances in a raid where one of the select few showed up. Mayhem, terror, death. He had been lucky that night, he realised. The most blood thirsty, the most loyal to the cause hadn't been there. Lucius Malfoy was the most memorable exception; however, Hadrian could appreciate his good fortune in this instance.

As unlikely as it would be, if the Dark Lord did take an interest in him personally, Hadrian would be coming into contact with those notorious individuals sooner or later.

Hadrian scoffed as he whispered the password to the portrait. To even think of the possibility of Lord Voldemort paying him special attention was ludicrous and a show of his own arrogance. Shaking his head as he fluidly stepped inside the empty common room Hadrian pushed aside the small thrill that ignited within him at the thought of the dangerous predator having an interest in him. That type of thought process, reeking of awe and submission, is what led to some of the most brilliant witches and wizards of the last century spending the past seventeen years in prison.

Hadrian entered his dorm grabbing a book on curses from the hidden and protected space underneath his bed, before flopping back on the mattress to read. Absently he reached over and reapplied a stronger cooling charm to the palm of his hand this time adding a numbing spell to the slightly burning area.

He definitely did not want the Dark Lord's interest. It could only ever lead to complicated places he had no wish to visit...And it would never happen, he was just being ego centric.

...

Rodolphus blinked open his eyes, taking in the spacious cream walls surrounding him with a lighter heart.

"Good morning, brother."

The low, familiar tenor voice coated in amused understanding, had the corners of his lips quirking upwards as he turned his heard to the right.

"Rastaban." He breathed in wonderment, letting his deep blue eyes rove the altered face of his little brother obsessively. "You've changed." He croaked, ignoring the burn of his throat.

Drawn, yet recognisable attractive features contorted to form a grin. "That's what happens after nearly twenty years Rodolphus."

Twenty years. "Merlin..." He sighed tiredly, "we were in there that long?" he asked.

His dear brother nodded, suddenly solemn. "Just about." He confirmed.

Rodolphus turned to look at the ceiling and let his breath out slowly, just letting it all sink in.

"You've changed as well." The quiet comment once again drew his attention and he silently motioned for the mirror laying innocently on his bed side table.

Rodolphus watched closely as Rastaban reached for the silver handle, noting the sickly white pallor of his skin where rich, sun kissed bronze used to reside. He glanced down at his own hand and saw the same difference.

They must look like ghosts.

"Here." He looked up into a familiar lop sided smile and felt some of his dismay and loss fall away.

"Thank-you." He murmured as he took the hand mirror, annoyed but not surprised to feel the evidence of his withered strength.

Someone must have washed him, was his first thought as he looked at his face for the first time in almost twenty years. No matter the trauma his body had been put through he was young in wizarding terms and he was glad that his hair was still the dark, thick ebony he was used to. It had lost its lustre and elegant waves but that was to be expected. His face was pale and sickly looking and his cheekbones were sharp and hollow.

He looked weak.

Pathetic.

But his sapphire eyes still possessed a flame of his fire. He was not broken, of that he was certain. He would recover. He would regather his strength, presence and domineering personality.

And then...he would strike back.

"Where's Bella?" He asked.

"Narcissa took her to get fixed up just twenty minutes ago." Rastaban responded while shaking his head. "You and Yaxley were the worst off of us...but not by much." He added quickly at the appearance of Rodolphus's scowl. He didn't like the idea that he had been in worse condition than the others.

"Why?" He snapped.

Rastaban leaned back in his comfortable chair, clearly unable to move at that point. "When the Dark Lord broke into Azkaban the guards used the protronus charm to herd as many of the Dementors that they could into the maximum security section in an attempt to have the lot of us kissed."

Rodolphus swore and narrowed his eyes dangerously on the silk green coverlet covering his body as he continued to listen.

"Our Lord had the foresight to see this move as a possibility and ordered the dementors to carry out no such orders. However, some of them got carried away. When Lucius and the others reached us they had begun to crowd around most of the cells but yours and Yaxley, being the closest to the security gate..."

"Were exposed for the longest." He finished.

"Yeah." His brother sighed, "Yaxley woke up about half an hour ago and she's only half there. I was worried..." Rastaban locked eyes with Rodolphus, "I was concerned that you may have suffered the same affects."

"I was lucky." He said.

"Yes, you were."

The silence was comforting and the air was warm and scented.

"The Dark Lord has returned then?" He whispered into the fading light.

"Yes." Rodolphus smiled.

The memorable chuckle did a lot to raise his spirits as Rastaban's cold bony hand picked up his own to grasp firmly.

"Indeed. With the Dark Lord leading us once more...ah...the wonders we will see, dear brother." He whispered.

"...You always were good at putting things aside...looking forward. I feel as if I should be doing the same." He said quietly, tightening his hold on the first human contact.

He felt the bed dip slightly and the welcome warmth of another body beside his as his brother lent down to envelop him in an embrace.

"People draw their strength, their fire from different places Rodolphus." He began, pulling back to look him in the eye. "I look to the future, I fight for an ideal or a possibility. You, my brother, fight for the people you love, past injustices and the present. You will be stronger for this, Rodolphus."

He felt a stirring in the magic surrounding him and opened his eyes. The dark smirk of his brother met his gaze; feral and wild against the shadow of firelight. Ignoring the tearing of his own dried, chapped lips he allowed his answering cruelty to stretch across his skeletal face.

"I agree, brother...Lestrange's always repay their debts." He chuckled lowly and let go of the hand mirror, revelling in the magnificent crash as it made contact with the stone floor.

...

Everything was dark and silent within the room, except for the sound of soft breathing indicative of deep sleep filled with dreams. There were curtains drawn around only three of the six four poster beds, the figures unmoving beneath dark green and silver sheets.

Emerald eyes snapped open.

A small, frail looking body hastily pushed heavy curtains aside and clumsily staggered to their feet, unable to see clearly in the dark. Movements were awkward and unbalanced, speaking of something more than ordinary tiredness. The body looked like a puppet on strings with the way it endeavoured to move; a lame, staggering puppet inaudibly fumbling its way to one of the two doors. Teeth, sinking deeply through his bottom lip, evidence of the pain he aggressively struggled to keep silent.

As open palms connected with the bathroom door, weak, delicate looking shoulders began to tremble and shake. Glowing, brilliant orbs glared at the dark wood, fingers frantically searching for the porcelain door handle. Pushing down, with more force than such a body looked capable of exerting, when connection was finally made.

Hadrian forced his pain racked, trembling limbs forward, into the marble bathroom, through sheer force of will. It was only with the sound of the soft catch of the door shutting, that Hadrian finally ripped his teeth out of his bloody and damaged lip and allowed his lungs to draw a deep, pain filled breath of air.

Sweet Darkness.

He was in agony.

Hadrian breathed heavily, staggering over to the far shower stall, clutching his hand to his chest protectively.

What was this pain? What was its source? What was the reason?

...How did he make it stop?

His mind was foggy with pain as he violently twisted the tap. Icy cold water shot from the head with thunderous pressure, beating down on his feeble frame. Hadrian's shoulders hunched in under the water's force and numbing temperature.

It was only then, at that point, with the crashing arctic water bearing down around him, that a whimper of pain escaped the bloody, destroyed mess of his mouth.

Slowly, his body sank to the white tiled ground and he wrapped his spindly arms around his equally weak knees and buried his head, clenching his eyes shut against the pain. His head felt as if it would explode under some imagined weight and his body, while zapped of energy, was being tortured and pulled but no visible marks slowed up on his skin.

He had no bearing on how much time passed before Hadrian realised that the water must be helping. Some semblance of focus returned to him as his mind fought and he gained more control over his ragged breathing. His relief was nearly tangible and Hadrian allowed his head to fall back against the tiles, the water hitting his face.

But then the burning started.

The skin around his eyes tightened and twitched. It wasn't exactly painful; at least, he frowned in confusion, he didn't think it was. Hadrian shifted slightly and the tender rips and tears in his bottom lips pulled painfully as his mouth curled. The burn was intensifying though...localising?

Hadrian gasped as that uncomfortable burn suddenly morphed into a striking hot iron focused on the palm of his hand. Urgently, he turned his hand over and brought it closer to his eyes, the direct assault of the icy water on his skin cooling the undamaged hand.

The burn promptly vanished as his eyes locked on skin.

...Was that?

Frowning, Hadrian reached up and turned off the water, his glowing green eyes not leaving his palm. There, in the familiar ruby ink of his blood elegant, cursive words were etched into his skin.

_**Stubborn, aren't you?**_

Hadrian clenched his jaw in a fiery combination of fury and confusion.

What the **hell** was going on? He gasped lightly in pain as those words disappeared, his skin healing only for new letters to begin slicing open his palm yet again. Eerie, red droplets of blood and water dripped from his hand, staining the white tiles beneath him.

_**Send your magic into your hand. Complete the spell.**_

Hadrian frowned at the slowly disappearing words.

It had to be the Dark Lord.

It was some minutes, as he lay there stewing in his rage at the man's arrogance, before a tingle began to scratch at the surface of his palm.

There was no way in hell that he was going to follow the instruction. The stupidity of such a blind action forced a scoff from his exhausted body and he let his hand drop limply to lay by his side.

Gritting his teeth, Hadrian hauled himself to his feet grimacing as his vision blacked momentarily and he swayed dangerously.

Whatever the Dark Lord had done to him was clearly feeding off his own magic to stay alive. An incomplete spell of this complexity, this magnitude, a spell that needed blood to spark it was unforgiving magic. If he was correct, one would need a lot of power to successfully initiate this spell; unfortunately, Lord Voldemort wouldn't have a problem with that.

Hadrian couldn't wipe the scowl from his face no matter how hard he tried. The invasion! The nerve! For Merlin's sake, the man was using his blood to fuel his spell! Whatever kind of spell it was! When did the bastard even get a chance to...

Hadrian's eyes widened impossibly.

...The train.

_He eyed the yellow paper distrustfully glancing once more at the bird before breaking the seal._

_Inhaling sharply through his teeth Hadrian hissed softly as the paper purposefully sliced across his palm cutting deeply. Glaring darkly at the parchment quickly becoming saturated with his blood he murmured a simple healing charm and watched with reluctant interest as the spell registered his blood and unlocked._

_Flowing calligraphy formed across the parchment, the letters glowing an eerie ruby Hadrian knew was his blood._

_Bold child. Too Bold. _

He couldn't believe it...A connection! A link!

The glamour surrounding his eyes shattered as his fury took a hold of him.

That bastard!

...

The next few days were the hardest Hadrian had ever experienced within Hogwarts castle. His anger was constantly at the surface, bubbling and brewing, threatening to blow if his thoughts lingered for too long on the Dark Lord. It reminded him of his first year in the ancient school when he utilised his persona for the first time. He was on edge, having to watch everything he said, everything he did with a razor sharp focus. His thoughts and emotions were too out of control for him to allow himself to relax and live on auto pilot.

Added to that, the slow increasing pain emanating from his palm as the spell continued to function incomplete. He knew that that pain that had woken him four days ago was the Dark Lord's direct intention. This connection gifted the man with unacceptable level of control over him.

Hadrian believed that the Dark Lord had had to wait and collect the energy from the partial link since the day on the train before he could transmit such torture in an attempt to force him to follow his instructions, thereby, lifting all such time and energy constrictions. It was the only reason Hadrian could think of that would explain the man's silence after the event and the gradual increase of pain in his hand. Without the man there to siphon off the energy, the connection was attacking him trying to encourage Hadrian to pay the price of such an intricate spell so it could settle.

There was no way he would do that. Walk blindly into something like this.

Nevertheless, at this rate the pain would likely become debilitating by tomorrow night at the latest. The library had yielded no answers thus far. Hadrian had spent every spare moment he had within the cavernous room aware, but dismissive, of the damage he was inflicting to his artful deception.

"Mr Walker?"

Hadrian blinked quickly and looked up into the concerned eyes of Professor Sprout.

"I'm sorry." He apologised quickly, a scan of the greenhouse showing the entire class's attention was on him. Fantastic.

"That's alright dear," She smiled in a strained way. "Just try and concentrate a little better."

"Of course." He bowed his head hoping to divert her attention and breathed out silently when she turned and continued with her enthusiastic lecture.

Hadrian was in the process of gathering his books when he caught the speculating brown eyes of Neville Longbottom. The boy turned away quickly as if aware of his extremely short temper and low tolerance at present. Hadrian clenched his hand into a fist to stop the glare that wanted to pierce through the shaky hold he had on his persona and melted into the twenty or so students walking out of Herbology.

Raven still hadn't gotten back to him about Longbottom, he realised for the first time with some alarm. She could have been running late or busy he supposed but it was unlike her. Hadrian always came first in her world.

Perhaps it was his distressed thoughts, pained body or simmering emotions that caused his complete lack of focus and therefore surprise, when someone suddenly grabbed his arms and yanked him into an empty classroom, but there was no excuse for it and his fury finally erupted in a haze of self recrimination.

His wand was in his hand and violently arcing diagonally down his body before he had fully turned to face the eye of his anger.

"Wait!"

The panicked exclamation did nothing to slow Hadrian's response and a powerful bone shattering curse flew from his wand in a dangerously graceful arc. Hadrian relished the pained cry as his hex hit home but was too focused on directing the multiple spells he was furiously casting to care for the calls of his name and the plump, distressed face of the individual in his line of sight.

"Hadrian! Stop!" The angry roar finally breached the haze around his thoughts, causing him to pause in the complex construction of a mini explosion hex. His hesitation cost him. Hadrian gritted his teeth together as he was lifted off the ground and slammed painfully into the teaching blackboard behind him.

"Oh, Merlin. Sorry, Walker." Hadrian lifted his dark eyes to finally look at the person suicidal enough to curse him.

"Longbottom?" Momentarily stumped he pushed himself off the ground, picking his wand up in light and ready fingers, before slowly advancing on the crumbled form of the boy.

Brown eyes widened before the stubborn set to the mouth won out and the Gryffindor pulled himself to his feet with the help of the globe on his left. Hadrian noted that the boy wasn't putting any weight on his left leg dispassionately before he came to a stop.

"What the hell were you thinking, Longbottom?" His tone was soft but silky. The lion already knew more than anyone in Britain about him and he would use that to his advantage if he had to.

The boy was silent for but a moment, his features frozen in confusion, before a self righteous fire started under him, spilling forth his words. "I was **thinking **that you were about to lose it and it would probably be better if that happened privately!" He said heatedly.

Hadrian raised a brow and crossed his arms, looking totally at ease and emotionally in control. "I was about to, how did you put it again? Oh yes, 'lose it'? Was I?" Hadrian's sophisticated tone and dark voice were so at odds with his appearance Neville had to shake his head to remember his thoughts.

"Yes." Longbottom snapped.

Hadrian gave a small patronising smile all the while attempting to tame his emotions and thoughts. "And you, out of all in our class, are the only one to have seen this?" he drawled sarcastically.

"Yes." The boy shouted.

Hadrian drew back and surveyed the unpredictable phenomenon in front of him closely. The boy just wasn't adding up. Although hiding himself Hadrian was certain that he did not possess a different personality, therefore, his humouring disbelief should have shaken some of that confidence the boy spoke his opinion with. That was discounting the unrealistic belief that the boy really had seen his internal turbulence when everyone else was still blind to it.

The boy did not have the intellect, foreknowledge or ability to see all that he said he had, yet, he spoke the truth.

Hadrian continued to let the silence stretch as he thought. Without a word Hadrian raised his arm, enjoying the answering flinch, and pointed his wand at the wooden door. A pale blue ward shot out of his wand and hummed softly, as sign that the spell had been successful.

"What did you do?" Longbottom's voice betrayed a little uncertainty and nervousness but Hadrian ignored him.

"...What makes you so sure that I was about to 'lose it'?" He asked casually.

Longbottom raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "Are you serious?" He pointed to the unturned furniture in reference to the earlier scuffle.

"You took me aside after class. Something made you believe what you say about my emotional stability prior to that incident. What?" Hadrian repeated slowly while reigning in his frustration.

The boy shifted suddenly looking uncomfortable. "I don't know." He shrugged.

Hadrian narrowed his eyes. The action caused the nervous Gryffindor to shift further and cry out in pain as he accidently put weight onto his shattered leg. Hadrian didn't even blink at the evidence of his outburst.

"A little help here?" Longbottom laughed weakly as if he couldn't believe the other hadn't yet offered to assist him.

Now it was his turn to shrug. "What do you want me to do about it? Healing isn't taught in the Hogwarts curriculum."

Surprisingly, that comment had the boy glaring at him.

"Look, I know you know how to heal this. Can you just stop being such an idiot about it and help me? It's your fault anyway!"

How did he...?

Hadrian crossed the space between them rapidly and grabbed a hold of the left collar of the familiar school robes tightly shoving the injured boy into the wall.

"Enough games Longbottom. There is no way you could possibly know that I could heal your leg. There is also no way that a wizard like you could see through me when the Headmaster can't. Talk." He pushed the tip of his wand underneath his chin and allowed the naturally hypnotic, eerie green colour of his eyes to emerge from his mask to pierce the boy.

He had been willing to let Longbottom's unnatural knowledge slide until he got the letter from Raven but this was too much. There was no possible way the boy could know what he did, yet somehow, that was reality. It was too risky, too frightening to think of such an avenue being open that he had failed to consider which would expose all of his secrets. That couldn't be allowed. No matter how impossible it seemed.

"Woah! Okay, okay. I believe you."Longbottom crowed as he tried to angle his neck away from Hadrian's wand tip.

A sear from his hand had him hissing and clutching the appendage protectively, however, the increase in pain wasn't enough to distract him from the alarming possibility before him.

"You should really sit down, Walker." Longbottom's almost caring voice had him shaking his head in confusion before he once again pushed through the pain and anger to focus.

"...Shut-up. What did you mean when you said, I believe you?" Hadrian demanded in genuine confusion.

Longbottom was quick to answer, as if he sensed how impatient Hadrian was, "I meant what I said. Fine, I would talk. I believe that you won't let me out of this room without an explanation and that you are moments away from hurting me if I don't comply."

Hadrian just stared at the boy in total bewilderment. Slowly, he unwound his fingers from Longbottom's collar and stepped back to get some space.

He hadn't said anything of the sort. Granted, his body language hadn't been hard to read but hadn't the boy ever heard of empty threats? Certainly, Hadrian hadn't been employing one then, but how did Neville Longbottom know that he was seriously prepared to do him bodily harm? The boy spoke with absolute certainty. Just as he had been unable to sway the wizard into doubting his observation of Hadrian's emotional instability, Hadrian knew, without a doubt, he would be incapable to convincing his peer that he was simply a sweet, misunderstood boy that spoke big but didn't have the guts to follow through. He didn't understand how Longbottom kept coming up with the correct answers! As if...intuitively known...

Hadrian snapped his neck around from where he was staring out the window to bore into the nervous wizard. If he was right...Hadrian gathered his magic around him, shaped it and smoothed the edges. Never hesitate.

"...You're an empath, aren't you?"

Longbottom seemed to still in shock, hearing it said out loud but finally nodded back.

"It happened in the summer before fifth year. I just woke up one morning at the mercy of everyone's emotions. I could tell exactly how disappointed my Gran was in me, how much she wished that my Father was still alive. I felt every scornful and embarrassed feeling of my housemates and the disappointed confusion of my teachers when my work wasn't at the level of my gifted parents." Longbottom smiled bitterly, "But then I reached school. I wasn't surprised to feel the hate, humour and disgust from your fellow Slytherins but I was...confused." He frowned and looked at Hadrian. "I didn't even know you. For being seen as a klutz and nobody everyone always seems to at least know my name. I didn't know you. So when I walked into that first Transfiguration lesson of the year I didn't know what to think. Your emotions didn't make sense to me. I was wondering if I was reading you wrong so I paid more attention to you but they didn't change. You would try to complete an activity in class. Your face would show apprehension, concentration, envy for those who could do it...but your emotions..." He shook his head, "You were bored, amused, repulsed by those around you."

Longbottom looked to Hadrian for some sort of reaction but seemed unsurprised and unperturbed to only face a blank canvas. It annoyed him. It annoyed him that he couldn't fool such an idiotic wizard no matter how good his mask and it really annoyed him to know that Longbottom knew how annoyed it made him if that smirk was anything to go by.

"Go on." He drawled meanly but the boy just grinned as if he were having great fun.

"Well, it wasn't until sixth year that I began to think of the possibility that you were hiding your real self."

"Fascinating."

Longbottom ignored his jibe, "During the Triwizard Tournament I noticed, more than once, a few of the veela males from Beauxbatons approach you romantically. Your emotions never fluttered. You were attracted to some but it didn't drive you. Still, I beg your pardon, you are not the best looking guy in the world and it was a little strange to see them interested in Hadrian Walker. So I researched veela in the library and found that although they do enjoy attractive partners they are drawn to power. Power of magic and power of mind. Their attraction to you told me that you were one of the most powerful males in the school and your ability to push aside your physical attraction to the veela told me that you have a powerful control over your mind and the intelligence to not fall for a subtle veela thrall."

Of all the things to give him away it was the total lack of his physical attractiveness. Perfect.

"So, I don't know why you're hiding who you are and what can do, I just know you are." He finished with a sheepish smile.

Hadrian reached up to rub his temples in an effort to decrease his aggravation with the world.

"Can I ask you a question?" The Gryffindor asked.

Hadrian gave him a deadpan look which should have been answer enough, not counting his less than impressed emotions, but Longbottom forged ahead.

"Are you alright?" He asked slowly.

This time Hadrian couldn't control his irritation. "What?" he snapped acidly.

The boy flinched but recovered quickly enough. "It's just that, ever since we all came back to school you haven't really been yourself."

"Sweet Merlin, I hate empaths." Hadrian groaned into his hands. Honestly, 'you haven't really been yourself?' what was that? The two of them had talked for the first time only days ago! This was too weird.

"You're normally so in control of yourself. Unflappable. This term, it's like being in a room with an annoyingly loud singing yoyo shouting at me every two seconds."

Hadrian raised a hand motioning for Longbottom to be silent. "You haven't spoken to anyone of your ...rare talent, have you Longbottom?" he asked tightly.

"No." The boy's shoulders drooped but Hadrian easily ignored it. If the wizard was looking for some sort of camaraderie or sympathy from him he was sorely mistaken. Having moved to just above unbearable on his scale of people Hadrian had no inclination to be any type of 'friends' with the Gryffindor outcast.

"Good." He murmured to himself. Before Longbottom had a chance to react Hadrian had hit him with a light sleeping charm.

Taking a few seconds to allow his emotions to settle, Hadrian cast a quick memory charm on the wizard, making sure to erase his fluctuating emotions from Herbology as well as their discussion. He would be damned if he suddenly acquired a lost puppy set on gaining his friendship, no matter how pathetic. Replacing the missing time with an episode of two faceless Ravenclaws and a complexion hex that would last for the next three hours, Hadrian dropped the ward and smoothly slid out into the empty corridor.

Longbottom had given him an idea though.

...

Raven landed neatly on her stone porch with a soft 'pop', without pausing in her humming, she opened the door and began to shrug off her heavy winter coat.

"Blink!" she called softly interrupting the new Weird Sisters song for just a moment.

"Mistress!" Blink popped into existence in front of her a distressed look on her wrinkled green face, pulling at her ears anxiously.

"Please put this away for me Blink and would you put on the kettle? I would love a nice, hot cup of camomile tea and some of the left over fruit cake that Jade sent us, hm?" She asked absently as she searched through the five or so pieces of mail on the marble entry table.

"Y-yes, yes of course Mistress! Mistress Nadine! Mistress! Mistress!" The poor creature was nearly beside herself as she called frantically after the tall elderly witch.

Finally, the last high pitched scream seemed to do it and Raven turned around to face the distraught house elf with a small frown.

"Yes, Blink. What is it?" She asked impatiently, the warm roaring fire that was always lit in the formal sitting room dancing through her thoughts.

"There is a m-man here to see y-y-you Mistress." The creature could barely get the words out but Raven quickly spun around and focused her unique violet orbs on the elf.

"A man? You know I do not take any visitors, Blink! Where is he? What was his name?"

"Yes, I be telling him Mistress does not take visitors but he insisted that he wait. He is waiting for you in the Formal lounge area, Mistress. I being telling sir that you do not like unexpected guests but he said that he was sure you wouldn't mind. That he was an old friend, Mistress."The elf squeaked and wrung her hands together while Raven turned to look at the innocent panelled wood separating her from her unexpected visitor.

"...An old friend..." Raven whispered before clearing her throat awkwardly, "And he didn't give you his name, Blink?"

"No! No! Mistress! Sir gave me his name. Mr Thomas Riddle, Mistress. Your old friend." The elf cracked her first smile of the evening while Raven's weathered features drained of colour.

"...Thank-you Blink." She whispered. "That will be all." Her voice slightly stronger.

Picking up her skirts Raven slowly crossed the entrance foyer, her violet eyes refusing to stray from the slightly agar door. Taking a deep breath she pushed the wood aside and stepped into the ice cold room completely devoid of the raging fire she had been fantasising about on her way home.

"Good Evening, Madame Nadine." The familiar silky timbre washed over her old bones but she couldn't tear her eyes from the handsome and dangerous frame that made the Dark Lord.

She gave a short laugh of disbelief, "You haven't changed at all."

"So it would seem." He answered shortly.

Her chin lifted. "Why are you here?"

"Did you see the news Madame Nadine? The Azkaban breakout, perhaps? I seem to recall that it was your husband's words that had the Yaxley twins incarcerated. Am I correct?"

Those crimson eyes watched her in dark amusement and the sinister smirk on his lips taunted her. She didn't like to speak of the past. Only Hadrian could bring it up around her but he rarely did because it caused her pain. This man cared nothing for her pain. In fact, she was certain that he knew exactly how far he was twisting the knife lodged in her chest. He was enjoying it.

"Yes, I heard the news." She answered in a subdued tone of voice. "Why are you here?" she demanded once again.

The Dark Lord studied her for a moment before he answered, "Your adopted son, Hadrian Walker, when did you take him in?"

Raven frowned. "Why do you want to know?" She asked daringly.

Crimson eyes narrowed dangerously. "I will not ignore blatant disrespect Madame Nadine. I suggest you keep that in mind when a flippant comment next occurs to you. I am not in the habit of giving many first warnings, let alone two." His tone was pleasant but the threat in his eyes told her she wouldn't enjoy the consequences of testing him right now.

"Hadrian was six years old." Raven answered, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible, knowing she wouldn't be able to avoid any of his enquiries.

"Really...he was an orphan then?" His eyes were sharp as that familiar spark of uncertainty and suspicion coiled tightly in her belly.

"As far as I know." Why was he asking her these questions?

"And how did you raise the little deceiver Madame?" He smirked.

Her jaw clenched at the less than positive words regarding her son but she answered anyway. She didn't have a choice. "I educated him as best I could. I let him make his own decisions throughout his life. He despises people who try to control him, who limit his freedom. He was always very independent. I gave him my views but I have not forced them upon him."

"Hmm," The Dark Lord stalked slowly to the door of the room and Raven breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I believe the child needs a change of environment."

Raven's violet eyes widened and she rushed out of the room to follow the impressive figure. "What do you mean? Riddle! What do you mean?" She shouted in demand.

The curse hit her with no warning. With a gut wrenching scream she fell to the cold floor, clawing at her eyes, desperately attempting to relieve the pressure and pain. The agony eventually subsided but didn't disappear when she was lifted by her thick, silvery mane and slammed against the hard wooden stair railing.

"You have become far too comfortable Raven. You were once a force to be reckoned with. First, your husband. Now, your adopted child. They weaken you. You are a Black. You revel in the Dark Magics. Your power is substantial yet you waste it, hide from the world and covet useless treasure." The Dark Lord sneered at her pathetic form and released her, letting her battered and bruised body connect painfully with the protruding piece of marble at the base of the stairs.

"W-what do..." Raven tried to get the words out but her pitiful wheeze transformed into a racking cough halting her words. By the time she could breathe again the Dark Lord had gone.

"Mistress?" The hesitant, frightened squeak of Blink didn't reach her. Horrified and swollen eyes continued to stay locked on the wide open door in silence. Soundless, wet trails of tears travelled unrelentingly down her wrinkled and damaged cheeks to her bloodied hands.

"What did he mean...?" She whispered brokenly into the empty manor, the raspy notes of her terrified question echoing loudly through the halls.

...

_HI! I hope you liked it! ;D Please just drop a review, that would be awesome! _


	12. Shattered Crystal

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Hadrian smiled in satisfaction as the potion in front of him turned a neon green colour. Not exactly appetizing but what did he expect when it was people like Snape inventing the things?

He didn't waste another moment. Dipping the glass into the warm thick liquid he brought the potion to his lips and drank.

"Ugh..."His face contorted at the horrible taste.

There wasn't any way to completely block an empath. Occlumency and willpower were about the only ways in which to diminish the breadth of access someone like Neville Longbottom would have to his emotions. Whatever spell the Dark Lord had initiated between them, unfortunately, had the same nature.

It had been hard to find, hours of exhausting continuous research in fact, before Hadrian had been able to find something that would be able to help him.

The spell wanted his magic and the increasing pain he was suffering would only heighten until he could no longer do anything but give in. That wasn't an option for him. Any seventh year potions student in Hogwarts would be capable of brewing the Greccas Trillium Potion. Strangely enough, for such a simple brew the potion had disproportionately powerful affects.

Greccas Trillium was used most often by curse breakers and ward masters in their work. When a client needed the job done quickly and they were working alone, it was this potion that the most dedicated and those with nothing to lose, utilised. Within the body, the neon green liquid acted as a temporary magical battery which would feed magic through channels to where it was needed. With this potion a witch or wizard could do all the work themselves, within the time frame and not suffer from magical exhaustion. It acted similarly to the Pepper up Potion, but rather than an immediate increase in energy and magic, the potion gave a slow continuous supply for one week.

It was perfect for Hadrian. That extra bit of magic constantly flowing through him could be directed into his hand making the spell believe that Hadrian was supplying his own magic to complete the connection, thereby, allowing him to live pain free.

Hadrian shut his eyes in concentration and gripped the edges of the table in the silence of the deserted classroom. While nowhere near the heart stopping agony that had ripped through him the night Lord Voldemort had carved a bloody message into his hand, the pain in his limbs was quickly approaching that point.

A slight warming of his skin and the accompanying increase in his magic had him smiling in triumph. After that, it was ridiculously simple to direct the magic to the palm of his hand and start 'feeding' the spell. His smile stretched into a grin as the pain immediately receded leaving only a slight ache in all of his limbs.

Hadrian sighed quietly and opened his eyes.

Unfortunately, this pain relief was only temporary.

Greccas Trillium used a common enough, but rarely chosen plant from Spain that became both addictive and toxic the longer it resided within the body. Each user was obligated by law to inform the ministry of any and all doses. The potion wasn't illegal but it was stringently monitored.

The maximum amount safely ingested was three doses and only two if taken in consecutive weeks. The consequences of addiction and overdose were fittingly morbid but Hadrian didn't have a choice.

There wasn't another solution that Hogwarts could give him and he didn't want to worry Raven until he absolutely had to.

In any case, Winter break started in two weeks and his library at home was far more liberal than the restricted section was. If he had still not found another solution two days before term broke he would ask Raven to get a head start on searching through his more questionable tombs before he joined her.

...

Hadrian glanced up as a small, red face hesitantly peaked through the door of the seventh year charms class.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick?" The boy mustn't have been more than a second year, Hadrian noted, before lazily turning his attention back to copying notes about the disillusionment charm from the blackboard onto his parchment.

Absently, he recognised the squeaky surprise of the Charms professor as he happily welcomed the student and questioned him on his reason for interrupting.

Merlin, he was bored. He had been able to cast this particular charm since third year, silently; since fourth.

These past four days, since Hadrian had ingested the potion, had been a welcome return to the monotony and schedule he was used to and associated with Hogwarts. He was careful to shield his emotions as much as he could behind Occlumency barriers whenever in Longbottom's vicinity, dampening their clarity. However, this class, the Slytherins were partnered with Ravenclaw. It was almost luxuriating, not having to beat down his familiar irritation with the subpar Hogwarts curriculum he was forced to sit through.

"...Professor Snape told me to get Draco Malfoy and Hadrian Walker from the Charms classroom, sir. He said that they were to go to the Headmaster's office immediately."

"Thank-you Mr Robbins." Professor Flitwick nodded before looking expectantly at his class for the two mentioned students. "Mr Malfoy? Mr Walker?"

Hadrian's neck had snapped round at the first mention of his name. Hadrian Walker was not the type of person to be called for anything.

His mind quickly supplied him with the conversation he had only registered peripherally but the answer did little to appease him. He wasn't in any school activities, he wasn't failing the year, he wasn't a troublemaker and Raven would never have approached the school. The only thing he could think of was his skipping the compulsory duelling class on Saturday. Even so, that hardly merited a summons, five days after the fact, and certainly not with Draco Malfoy, to the Headmaster's office.

Two tables to his left, he saw the slightly surprised, yet, unconcerned face of Draco Malfoy casually packing up his books and notes with no degree of rush or dawdling. After a moment's pause, Hadrian copied the other's actions with elegantly designed clumsiness that tightened the skin around his neighbour's mouths.

Come to think of it, the Slytherin trio hadn't bothered him again after their initial interest at the start of term. Hadrian wondered if they believed that they had solved the puzzle and questions surrounding him already. Allowed their minds to supply them with a likely solution their prides could live with. He supposed that he would eventually find out.

"The homework is seven inches of plausible scenario's where one could use the disillusionment charm to aid themselves in an endeavour, gentlemen. Please, do not forget." Fillius Flitwick called as the pair neared the door and they both nodded back in silent acknowledgement.

Hadrian's mind was swirling with possibilities and reasons for this unprecedented circumstance but he could think of nothing. Tension and a certain anxiety began to creep into him when he could think of no answers. He _hated_ being unprepared. He planned. He calculated. He was not caught unawares.

They had not taken more than five steps before the red faced second year stepped neatly in front of them, halting the pair in their forward progress.

"What?" Malfoy snapped at what Hadrian could now see was a young Hufflepuff and the silent boy, fearful of the blonde's awesome reputation, just stuck out the note in his hand without a word.

Malfoy, too busy glaring at the child, didn't immediately notice when Hadrian took the folded parchment from the second year's slack fingers.

Mark Robbins quickly turned tail and ran down the staircase on their right; glad to leave the two seventh year Slytherin's presence.

"Well? What does it say?" Malfoy asked with a frown.

"Liquorice Wands." Hadrian replied blandly, his thoughts racing elsewhere.

Draco raised an eyebrow at the controlled, unimpressed tone of Walker's voice. Normally, such a display of his short temper would have Walker tense and nervous around him, not dismissive. The idiot certainly would never have taken the parchment before he had a chance to. It was an action that spoke of confidence and assertion. Two descriptions he never would have associated with Hadrian Walker.

"Give that to me." Draco demanded. Walker passed the paper without argument or comment and started forward without the blonde.

Malfoy scowled at the miserably weak figure currently moving away from him and gritted his teeth at the lack of respect. He ruled the Slytherins. He had since his fifth year and Walker was acting as if that didn't matter! Angry, he shot a silent itching jinx at his back. The boy was clearly lost in his thoughts but it seemed to be giving him previously unseen courage.

...If it was Snape that had sent the message, did that mean that his obnoxious head of house would be there or not? Perhaps they wanted to discuss his grades, as ridiculous as that sounded, but then why would Malfoy be there? He could think of nothing that would require Malfoy and himself to see the Headmaster together! Nothing! Had Longbottom come forward? No, it wasn't possible. Hadrian shook his head. And if, _somehow_, his obliviate _had_ been detected, again; why the long wait? And why would Malfoy...?

...Hadrian's eyes widened.

Acting on instinct, he gracefully sidestepped the pale red light and spun around, his wand in a loose grip and ready to fire.

Two mercury coloured orbs were staring at him in astonishment.

Shit.

Quickly, Hadrian relaxed his stance but the damage was done. Hadrian Walker should not have been able to sense the magic of an incoming attacking spell. That required practice, talent and power.

"Since when have you been able to dodge like that Walker?" Malfoy had apparently snapped out of his shock quickly and his eyes were stubborn and determined as he advanced forward.

Hadrian knew that it was unacceptable for any Malfoy to be unaware of the fighting skill level of any snake under his rule. There was no way the git would let this go and he had no time to perform a memory charm on the blonde, who; he was sure, had occlumency shields of some kind, in the middle of an open hallway.

Thinking quickly, he shaped his face to show fright and confusion while he silently conjured an unobtrusive stand with a simple silver vase resting atop it, just ahead of him.

"Whoa, Malfoy! Wait! I just saw what you did in the reflection, that's all!" Hadrian pointed to the vase and watched closely as the other's eyes followed his arm to look at his conjured items. "I didn't particularly feel like being subjected to one of your hexes, especially as we're on our way to the Headmaster's office."

Hadrian could see the moment the boy accepted his reasoning. He was sure it was more believable than the reality anyhow. But there was still doubt in the silver eyes.

Hadrian stifled the urge to roll his eyes to the heavens and curse in frustration.

They were on their way to the Headmaster's office for Salazar's sake! He couldn't deal with this right now! But he knew he had to. Silently, he gathered his energy and patience. He couldn't allow his persona to slip and serious doubt to set in, for what he was sure would turn out to be nothing. He needed to rectify this now so that it wouldn't fester.

"Fine." Malfoy agreed, "When did you learn to draw your wand and have it in a ready position that fast, then?" The boy crossed his arms imperiously with an expectant look.

Hadrian was silently surprised by the perceptive and sharp observation but swiftly undermined it.

His face showed shock and only partial understanding, as if he didn't quite understand how that was significant, before a sickening pleasure crossed his features and self importance dominated his dull green gaze.

"Oh! That! Well, I'm better at duelling than people think, Draco!" He saw the amusing twitch of the blonde's eye at the obnoxious casual use of his first name with some degree of pleasure. "And the duelling class last Saturday really helped with the...um...wand posi-ready position!" He stumbled, as if he didn't have a clue about the correct terminology, and as planned, that seemed to be Malfoy's limit.

"Alright, Walker! You can shut-up now." He snapped. Shaking his head as if he couldn't believe whatever he had been thinking just a moment ago.

Hadrian probably should have waited in silence; to cement Malfoy's current view that he was a pompous coward, but the anxiety and frustration wouldn't allow him to.

"We ought to be getting to the Headmaster's office, right?" He asked quickly, but made sure to keep his voice as timid as he could in order to soften it.

Malfoy didn't even bother to answer him. He simply marched past and continued, with a quick step, to climb the staircase that would bring them to the Headmaster's level.

Hadrian could feel the strain the swift pace was putting on his persona's feeble muscles and took a moment to lament his _own_ sleek and powerful frame.

Thankfully, their discussion in the stone corridor seemed to have thoroughly disgusted the pureblood and he was determined to reach their destination as speedily as possible, and; in silence. It was a welcome reprieve to Hadrian, as his mind flew through possibilities and problems. The corridors empty, students in classes.

"Liquorice Wands."

Hadrian could hear the snarl in Malfoy's voice and smirked lightly in amusement before he followed the blonde up the revolving staircase and through the open door into the Headmaster's office.

As he crossed the threshold, the first thing that hit him was the oily hair and large hooked nose glaringly balefully at him from the Headmaster's right side.

_Lovely_.

"Mr Walker, Mr Malfoy...thank-you for coming. Please, take a seat."

Hadrian strengthened his occlumency shields. He poured as much magic as he could afford into the mental defences before glancing up into the twinkling sky blue eyes hiding deviously behind half moon spectacles.

This would be his first encounter with Albus Dumbledore where he would be able and willing to focus on him.

His pulse quickened and a thrill went through him as he saw the sharp genius in those eyes.

Dumbledore _would_ catch him if he made a mistake.

Where others were likely to overlook, Hadrian knew, the ancient wizard wouldn't. Luckily, he felt he was up to the challenge.

"Mother?" The surprised voice of his classmate had his immediate attention and he shifted his eyes to the left.

There, sitting poised and elegant was Lady Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, in all her glory.

Hadrain knew, as soon as he met her ice blue eyes and perfect features, that this woman was a force to be reckoned with. She had a small, yet, genuine smile on her lips as she rose to kiss her son on the cheek but her eyes never strayed from his figure. She was looking for something. Searching.

Interesting,...though almost certainly problematic.

"Yes, yes. By all means, boys, have a seat, have a seat. This shouldn't take too long. In fact, I predict I we will all be out of here in time for the adults to enjoy the wonders of Madame Rosmerta's mulled wine."

Cornelius Fudge. Hadrian regarded the man with what appeared to be a slightly awed eye as he slid into the offered chair beside Malfoy.

He hadn't met the Minister of Magic before, but Gabriel had told him what he thought when he had met the man at an exclusive banquet in France, July of last year. He trusted Gabriel's observations, but not blindly. Still, in this case, his French ex-lover seemed to be as reliable as ever. The man was a puppet for any faction willing to line his pockets with more galleons than any of the others. He was weak, pitiful and undoubtedly; soon to be gone. He was no use to Dumbledore with the way he kept slandering his name in the papers, and the Dark Lord wouldn't be satisfied with a Minister whose loyalty swayed far too easily.

"Indeed Minister." Narcissa Malfoy cut in smoothly, her tone light enough so it wouldn't be viewed as rude. She was ignoring her son's inquiring looks and had instead turned to face the Headmaster with a raised brow of expectation.

Hadrian watched the slight reluctance from Dumbledore and the deepening of Snape's scowl closely. Whatever was going on had been initiated by Lady Malfoy. The Minister's presence, although little more than a figurehead, had to mean that whatever they were dealing with was legal, as the Ministry had no other jurisdiction at Hogwarts.

The Headmaster cleared his throat before looking to view Hadrian over his spectacles. "Mr Walker," he began seriously.

Hadrian aggressively curbed the urge to narrow his eyes.

Something felt extraordinarily..._planned_...about this.

"...Yes, sir?" He replied politely, but added an eye glance to Draco Malfoy; appearing to check whether his courtesy was acceptable behaviour for a Slytherin.

Professor Snape's glare darkened.

"Mr Walker. I am about to ask you a question that I need for you to answer me truthfully. Can you do that?" Albus Dumbledore asked intently.

Now Hadrian _really _wished he could narrow his eyes in suspicion.

Instead of answering, he asked another question. "What is this about, sir?" he said slowly.

The Headmaster leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap while peering closely at his student.

"Your guardian, Mr Walker...Can you tell me their name?"

They knew.

Hadrian stiffened. He breathed slow and deep attempting to control the thumping of his heart.

"Why do you ask, Headmaster?"

"We have reason to believe that your adoption is not valid."

He had had no idea what he had been walking into but, not even in the wildest of his imaginings had the possibility of Raven's detection been at risk.

He tilted his head and cleared his throat slightly, fighting back the dread, "...Not valid?"

A large, impatient exhale of breath sounded through the hushed, tense office.

"Come now boy, own up. We know that this isn't your fault. Lady Malfoy was the one to uncover this misdeed of justice. Raven Nadine was stripped of all her rights and privileges the day she was proved guilty of dark affiliations, boy. She should not have been allowed to adopt a child, let alone a magical child!" The minister, clearly losing his patience at the run around, blurted out all the information Hadrian needed to know that the Headmaster had cleverly refused to gift him with.

His eyes snapped to the right and met unapologetic, ice cold blue eyes staring back at him.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself, Mr Walker?" Snape spat heatedly and Hadrian had to try _very_ hard to suppress the black glare that was screaming to come out. His face _needed_ to twist itself into some expression of malevolent fury. _React_! _Appease_ some of the thundering, _enraged_ emotions _charging_ through him!

But he could do none of this.

This had to be hidden.

His _rage_ at the _violation_. His _fury_ at their patronising eyes. His darkness. His cruelty and his promise of retribution if they took him from Raven.

It all had to be hidden.

He was a mask.

Hadrian lived as a hidden persona. He had a part to play. Even now, when _moments_ away from being forcibly taken from the _only_ person he trusted implicitly in the world...he could do nothing.

He could _not_ react.

His _terrifying_ maelstrom of violent wrath; unseen.

No words could describe the price he paid to keep his silence in that moment. It was hard. It was harder than anything he had ever had to do. And it hurt him.

If he changed, even a little, they would know that he had forever hidden part of himself from them. Where there was one secret there was more. He couldn't afford for them to know what he was capable of, how much influence he had. He was Dark. It was inescapably obvious. They would panic. They would try to control. They would stifle him until they decided that they couldn't live with the possibility of what he may be able to do in the future.

He was trapped in a web of his own making.

"...What are you going to do with me?" His voice was morose and small as he watched the adults exchange looks with _barely_ suppressed rage.

"I will be assuming your guardianship, Mr Walker." Hadrian's eyes snapped to Narcissa Malfoy with genuine shock.

"What?" Draco's exclamation of outrage increased the icy veneer over Lady Malfoy's eyes as she stared at her son in solemn warning.

"Raven Nadine, before she was married, was a Black. I too, was born a Black. This illegal adoption is not the child's fault and he should not be punished for that. He was adopted by a Black and is, therefore, part of my family and my responsibility. I will be assuming Mr Walker's guardianship." She said all this very decisively, as if she didn't wish to take in such a below par wizard, but familial obligation demanded it of her.

Hadrian saw red.

"I _thank-you_ for the kind and generous offer Lady," he could barely get the fake nervous words out through his anger, "however, I do not think that will be necessary. I am seventeen in March of next year. Perhaps, emancipation would be a better solution for all parties. I already have my supplies for school and the fees have been paid..."

Perhaps it was careless of him, but Hadrian couldn't bring himself to care enough, at that point.

Hadrian categorically dismissed the unmistakable and arctic warning in Narcissa Malfoy's eyes with all the gall and confidence of his true personality.

"...I can stay at Hogwarts during the holidays and then, when the end of year comes, I will be a legal adult and no burden will have been placed on you."

It took every ounce of will power and restraint he possessed to not blow at the dark scowl Snape was sending him; telling him _exactly_ how much of an _idiot_ his head of house thought he was.

"Now, that may be an idea Narcissa!" Cornelius bellowed with a laugh and Hadrian saw her eye twitch in aggravation; the same way her son's had not half an hour ago at the presumptuous breach of correct social etiquette.

"The inconvenience may indeed be far lessened the way Mr Walker proposes to proceed. However, while I do believe that it, unquestionably, is not the young man's error; that Raven Nadine decided to adopt him. I do have questions regarding the responsibility of his decision not to say anything when he became older, and understood the predicament. "

_Unbelievable_! Raven was his _Mother_ for Merlin's sake! She had _raised_ him! Taken _care_ of him! _Loved_ _him_! He would be _more_ concerned if the _first move he made _had been _**to turn her in**_!

Narcissa Malfoy's blue eyes shot him a private and frosty stare, ordering him to stay silent. Unfortunately for her, that one-on-one secrecy was about to help him. He would bend his mask if he had to in order to stay out of the claws of the Malfoy's. It was a convenient advantage though. None of the other occupants would be aware of his slight personality shift, and Lady Malfoy didn't know him _nearly_ well enough to call him on it.

"Raven has never been anything other than doting to me!" He cried theatrically. "I know what we did was wrong! But, _please_, you _don't_ need to fix this! Emancipation would solve all these problems and would not make me an unwanted and unnecessary burden on you, Lady!"

His child-like hysteria seemed to do the trick.

"Mrs Malfoy, please. Mr Walker clearly cares for the woman he sees as his Mother, his actions are understandable." Albus Dumbledore stepped in with a frown.

Narcissa Malfoy smiled tightly but nodded her apparent understanding and acceptance of his words.

"Nevertheless, I believe that there is a reason that the age of seventeen is the age a child becomes a legal adult. All children need guidance and some form of support especially in the stressful year of the NEWTS examinations."

_Oh Yeah_! I'm sure support is _exactly_ the 'unnamed' _real _reason you want me under your control! He fumed internally. _**Why**_ was she trying so hard?

Mrs Malfoy continued calmly. "I really must _insist_, Minister, that you grant me my request." She said firmly and Hadrian knew it was all over as soon as she had focused her eyes and demand on the weak Minister.

Fudge seemed to draw back slightly at the sudden focus of the room's occupants on him but quickly shook it off. He was hardly going to go against the wife of Lucius Malfoy for an unknown and, from what he had heard; unremarkable, wizard.

"Yes! Yes, of course. I quite agree, my good lady. I shall have the necessary documents pushed through the departments quickly. I'm sure you would like to take Mr Walker home for the holidays." He laughed jovially; entirely unaware of the coldness behind Narcissa Malfoy's small smile or the veritable _murder_ hidden in Hadrian's innocently overwhelmed dull orbs.

Hadrian clenched his teeth but kept his mouth shut. There was nothing to be done now. The decision had been made.

He kept a strangle-hold on his emotions and endeavoured to just stay silent and get out of the room as fast as he was able.

Draco couldn't be described as what you would call happy, either. His mercury eyes were screaming questions and he quickly rose as his Mother did, determined to speak with her as soon as they were alone.

The meeting, clearly at an end, and his presence no longer required or wanted by any, Hadrian promptly got to his feet and started for the door.

The deceptively sweet and soft voice of his new guardian stopped him.

"I am looking forward to the Christmas break, Hadrian. Please, just stick close to Draco on the Hogwarts express and follow his instructions. We wouldn't wish you to get lost on your way to the manor."

The saccharine mocking was nearly enough to undo him.

No matter _how_ rude it may have seemed, he escaped down the stairs, without a word, he was in _far_ too much danger of spinning back around and telling her _exactly _what she could do with her _first_ _**commands**_.

...

Draco could barely contain himself as he walked down the steps after his elegant Mother, she; speaking softly to the Minister. The Malfoy heir observed, with admiration, that his Mother appeared to have, once again, gracefully sidestepped one of the man's numerous invitations, this one; apparently, to join him for a late lunch in Hogsmede.

"Very well, Narcissa, very well. I cannot say that I am not disappointed but I admire your devotion to your family. I will take my leave of you and the young master Malfoy. If you should ever need my help again, please, don't hesitate to ask." Draco wanted very much to sneer at the portly man currently bowing to his mother but refrained.

He was certain the man would come to regret those words.

"Thank-you Minister. That is extremely generous of you." His Mother's soft voice floated delicately through the corridor.

Narcissa Malfoy was a powerful and intelligent witch with a devious mind. Now, he just wanted to know what had possessed her to push for the role of Hadrian Walker's caretaker!

As soon as the Minister had disappeared around the corner, his beautiful mother turned in his direction.

"Ah, Severus. How are you?"

Draco frowned and looked behind him to see the scowling face of his Godfather.

"Fine Narcissa. Perhaps you and Draco would like to join me in my quarters for a few minutes, to catch up?"

Draco was pleased to see that his Head of House seemed just as determined as he was to find out why his Mother had decided to act as she had.

"Alright Severus, that sounds wonderful. Come Draco." His Mother held out her elbow and gave him an expectant stare as he stepped forward and wrapped her elbow securely in his.

While propriety dictated that he should have been the first to offer the courtesy he knew his Mother was only asking for his escort because she had missed her son. While his parents were both powerful and cunning figures, masters at playing politics, Draco knew that they both loved nothing more than they did him.

The three of them walked in relative silence, occasionally exchanging various titbits of polite conversation; filled with nothing of substance, until they had reached his Godfather's living quarters. Draco watched; as his Godfather immediately went to his liquor cabinet and poured himself a generous amount of, what looked to be red wine. Black eyes glanced up, wordlessly offering his Mother her choice, but she shook her head and gently settled into one of the old, frayed arm chairs.

None of them spoke for a moment before Draco finally decided that he would have to be the one to get the ball rolling.

"Mother, I am trying _really _hard to wrap my mind around this, but I can't. What _possessed_ you? Does Father know about this?" He frowned in continuing shock.

Narcissa raised a brow at her son before replying, "Of course Lucius is aware, Dragon."

"Mother!" He snapped in exasperation, "_What_ is going on?"

"I too, would like to know the answer to that." Severus's silky voice added. "I would also like to know how the both of you seemed to have known that Hadrian Walker was raised by Raven Nadine and did not see fit to inform me of the fact."

Draco started, turning to stare at his Godfather in surprise. The man hadn't known what happened over the summer?

Narcissa's eyes widened in surprise, "I did not know that you were unaware, Severus." She said softly. "How odd." Her tone was suddenly calculating and Severus narrowed his eyes warningly to slits.

"We all found out during the summer, Sev. Walker seemed to just drop this _bombshell_ on all of us and..." Draco promptly began to launch into an explanation, eager to catch the man up on the strange happenings before term. Perhaps, even hear his thoughts on the subject.

Walker had certainly been perplexing him and his friends enough. Conceivably, it was possible that fresh eyes would be a benefit here. His Godfather may see something so blatant, they had missed it.

"Draco!" His Mother's sharp order of silence had Draco frowning deeply in uncertainty as his eyes darted between the two tense adults.

"What?" He asked, having no idea what he had presumably done wrong.

Severus's dark eyes stayed locked on ice blue. "Go on, Draco." He stated.

Narcissa suddenly flew to her feet, threatening orbs glaring at the Potions Master. "Do not presume to over-ride my authority with Draco, Severus." She whispered lowly.

"Then, please, Narcissa. Enlighten me yourself." He sneered back.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that." She declared serenely.

"Mother..." Draco's half-hearted protest died quickly at the warning look.

"And, why not?" His Godfather asked angrily, trying to keep his temper under control. "Draco and yourself have seemed to profess a great deal of surprise over my lack of knowledge. It would only be logical that I should know, apparently." His tone was tight but Narcissa was unaffected and shrugged off the demand effortlessly.

"I cannot help you." She stated once again before abruptly turning to her son.

"Be sure to keep a close eye on Hadrian, won't you Draco?" She said offhandedly and Draco actually glared at her.

"I can't _stand_ the cretin, Mother!"

She smiled thinly, a sure sign she was losing her patience. "And don't forget to buy him a Christmas gift."

"A present? You can't be serious!" He snapped.

"I am, Draco. And I will not be addressed in such a manner. Control yourself." She warned stiffly.

Draco swallowed his anger as best he could. "Why, Mother?" He persevered through clenched teeth.

Narcissa began to imperiously slide on her wrist length; white satin gloves. "For all the reasons I have already stated, Draco. Whether you or I like it or not, _that_ boy is _our_ responsibility. Raven Nadine was a Black before she married and I will not turn my back on my family. No matter whom it is."

"I don't see you trying to be pal's with Sirius Black, Mother. Where is your family loyalty there?" Draco snapped and knew, as soon as the words escaped him, that he had gone too far.

His Mother hated her cousin with a passion. It grated on her nerves that the main branch of the Black family was in the hands of a light simpleton like Black. She would not appreciate the comparison.

Light blue eyes flashed upwards and connected with his mercury. "I apologise, Mother." He murmured softly.

Narcissa Malfoy was silent for several moments as she continued to stare at her fidgeting son before she nodded tightly, however, Draco knew his blatant disrespect was far from forgiven.

_Damn Walker!_

"I do not expect you to understand my reasons, Draco. However, I do expect you to respect them."

He nodded. It's only for a few months, he chanted to himself. Walker will only be around for a few months.

"I know that you feel a great deal of loyalty to your family Narcissa." Severus stated, also standing. "But I do not believe, in this case, you will enjoy the repercussions. Hadrian Walker is a lazy, idiotic, spineless child that will not survive in the presence of some of our associates. I cannot help but think that you will regret this."

Draco's eyes widened. Of course! How could he have forgotten?

The Malfoy Manor would be filled with Dark wizards and witches over the holidays; popping in and out. Walker would _never_ be able to keep his mouth shut! He quickly opened his mouth to agree with his Godfather's words but his Mother beat him to it.

"Thank-you for the concern, Severus. However, you can be sure, I am _fully_ aware of the apparent inadequacies of my ward. My decision is final." Her voice was hard now, closing the conversation.

Draco could admit to himself that he was lost to understand why his Mother refused to let him tell his Godfather what had happened during summer. About the strange things they had learned about Hadrian Walker. It didn't make sense. He supposed,...there was the possibility that one was not supposed to share information about the Dark Lord's dealings with lose who did not already know...but that couldn't possibly include Sev! The Potion's Master was practically family!

"I will take my leave now. I look forward to having you home for Christmas, Dragon." Lady Malfoy walked to the portrait hole, "Do not forget my words, Draco." Her eyes were serious and he nodded his reluctant agreement. Then she was gone, leaving the two males alone and in silence.

Draco finally let his scowl of displeasure show.

"There's no _way_ I'm getting Walker a gift!" He growled, before stomping from the room angrily to inform his friends of the unwanted addition to his previously small, insular family unit.

Severus watched his Godson depart in a huff and couldn't really blame the boy for his childish comment and reaction. Hadrian Walker had managed to irritate Severus from his first night at Hogwarts, practically the moment his foot touched the castle's ancient grounds for the first time! He had interrupted his opening address to the Slytherin House after the Welcoming feast with a spectacular bout of clumsiness that immediately earned him the majority of the house's distaste.

Still, he hadn't known the boy was raised by Raven Nadine. Severus sneered as he recalled his obvious shock when he had been called to the Headmaster's office during his free period. He had stepped into the office only, to find the Headmaster, Narcissa Malfoy _and_ the Minister of Magic awaiting his presence to announce a change in a student's legal guardianship.

Albus had almost immediately sent him a restrained, questioning glance at the startling information and Narcissa's consequent action. It aggravated him beyond reason to not have known something so crucial about one of his Snakes.

He had only ever met Raven Nadine half a dozen times in his life, all before the end of the first war. She had been smitten with her husband that had been obvious; achingly so. But she was also uncommonly powerful. He knew that much. She was a pureblood; proud of her heritage, dismissive of muggles and in love with the dark arts.

Truthfully, he was surprised that Hadrian Walker had made it to Hogwarts alive.

She didn't seem the type of person that would put up with his numerous blinding faults.

Draining his wine glass, Severus strode purposefully over to his fire place.

And why had Narcissa not allowed Draco to tell him what had occurred over the summer? Of course, he was aware of the rules of information but he was one of the inner circle Death Eaters! Where was the leniency that became his high rank amongst the fold?

He had been annoyed that his Slytherins were being so tight lipped about what had occurred over the summer, but he had still managed to piece together any information he had not already known from his own Death Eater gatherings.

It was disturbing, that he had not heard a peep about Raven Nadine. Even though she had not been a Death Eater, most knew who she was.

Raven Nadine had trained Bellatrix Black and Sirius Black in duelling, for multiple summers, before they had graduated from Hogwarts.

Severus could well remember is own jealousy, when Sirius Black would return to Hogwarts at the start of each year following third, until he ran away, complaining incessantly of the brutal training he went through. It had multiplied the flames of his own envy when Black would top Defence, effortlessly, for the first five months of school, until his own natural laziness and the classes improvement, brought the Black heir to finish in the top three, every year, without fail.

Bellatrix Lestrange had been, Severus admitted, the Dark Lord's only student; however, she had been an awesome dueller even before then. She had been good enough to catch the man's notoriously hard kept attention.

Raven Nadine had been their first and principal teacher in their formative years. That the Black family had had _her_ train them; the eldest children and heirs of both branches of the family, was indicative of Raven Nadine's power and intelligence.

"Headmaster Dumbledore's office." He spat out impatiently into the flames.

How could such a witch, have raised so pathetic a wizard, as Hadrian Walker?

"Ah, Severus, good. What can you tell me?"

...

Narcissa Malfoy closed her eyes and took a minute to steady her breath before she leant forward and rapped lightly on the door.

"Come." The soft, masculine voice from behind the door had her quickly turning the handle and walking through.

She stood silently, waiting to be acknowledged, as the sinfully handsome figure continued dancing his quill rapidly across a long scroll of yellow parchment.

"_Yes_, Narcissa?" She wasn't fooled by his distracted body language. The man in front of her, even when his dark, swirling crimson orbs had yet to look up, she was certain; was fully aware of her every possible incriminating facial expression.

"My Lord," she began. The quill never slowed in its furious pace. "I've just come from Hogwarts."

"Indeed..." the dark, silken voice dripped with sarcastic interest and she actually blushed in embarrassment.

She continued quickly, the meeting had not started on the positive foot she had hoped for. "I have successfully transferred Hadrian Walker's guardianship over to me, effective immediately. He will be joining Draco on his trip back to Malfoy Manor in just over a week and is aware that he is under my and Lucius's authority until he turns seventeen; in March of next year."

Narcissa caught the momentary pause of the active quill at the mention of Walker's name, with interest. She watched closely as she spoke; trying to gain some insight into the reason behind his peculiar orders.

For some reason, unknown to her, the man wanted Walker in his immediate reach and out of Raven Nadine's.

"Was there any trouble? You took longer than I thought you would, Narcissa. You're normally so reliable in situations like these." The comment was taunting and she bristled internally at the inference of her slip in abilities.

"No, my lord. If you remember correctly, Raven Nadine was _known_ for being able to hide things she didn't want known."

"_Yes_," he drawled slowly, raising the hairs on the back if her neck as the end of the word was drawn out with a serpentine hiss. "I do remember that particular personality trait well." She caught the small, relaxed smirk on his lips as he continued to write elegantly, without pause, but she was sure he meant her to. "Yet, I believe that you yourself, Narcissa, have inherited that selective gift. Surely, it couldn't have given you _too_ much trouble."

The man was mocking her. She lifted her chin. "It was almost impossible for me to find evidence that she had legally adopted the boy in the magical world as well as the muggle. She seems to have used old friends to stop the information from becoming known and readily available. But I found the file."

"Good." The word was a sharp, clipped acknowledgment and stopped her from continuing any further.

The Malfoy Lady rocked back uncomfortably, sensing; as the thick currents of magic surrounding the Dark Lord shifted lazily, before he calmly set his quill down and lifted the finished parchment onto the neat stack of paper on the left of his desk.

Then he looked up.

Narcissa felt her heart beat quicken. Mysterious and sadistic amusement darkened the man's sinister crimson eyes.

"And how did the boy react?" He asked softly; interestedly, as he lent back into his grand, green leather chair.

Narcissa's brow twitched in confusion, "As any young man who was being forced to part from the only Mother he had ever known, I expect."

When those dark eyes continued to bore into her; unimpressed and expectant, she forced her memory of the previous hour to the forefront of her thoughts and proceeded to recount the boy's actions in as much detail as she could manage. It was a nerve raking several minutes. She speaking without significant pause while the Dark Lord remained silent and expressionless; presiding as a judge over her work.

She was mystified by the obvious curiosity in Hadrian Walker.

Narcissa had been aware of the boy's unremarkable reputation when she had walked through Hogwart's wards earlier today. It would have been difficult to have missed such uninspiring potential as Walker seemed to possess in abundance. Yet, he had killed a man in front of her, her son and his friends seemed...unaware of his living situation and uniquely powerful allies. Narcissa had talked herself into approaching the boy with an open mind. Today's meeting had solidified the copious amount of negative reviews she had read from all manner and politics of individuals who had encountered Hadrian Walker.

She had put the strange instances down as anomalies or a direct echo's of Raven Nadine's exceptional qualities.

Yet, as she was describing everything that had occurred in the Headmaster's office, Narcissa slowly came to a startling discovery she had previously dismissed. When she had stared warningly at Walker, when he had begun to protest, she couldn't help but recognise and appreciate how quickly and articulately the wizard had conveyed his arguments for emancipation. Before she finally put her foot down and _demanded_ his guardianship, Walker had successfully convinced _every_ person in that room, apart from her, that his proposal was the best course of action. If she had indeed been acting _solely_ on an obligation of family loyalty, his words would have rid her of any guilt or feeling of responsibility and Walker would have walked out of the Headmaster's office, hours ago, having got his way.

_**How**_ had she _not_ seen this before? She thought furiously. Searching through her memories with far more vigour than earlier; looking for anything else she may have missed.

A picture, in full clarity, of Walker's dull, lifeless eyes suddenly showed something different...the boy had ideed comprehended her warnings, she realised with amazement. At the time, she had put his noncompliance with her subtle threats to cease his arguments, down to his well-known lack of intelligence and common sense...but that wasn't the case, was it? That wasn't the truth, the reality. He had disregarded them. Rather than _stupidity_ she was dealing with _disobedience_.

Either Walker did not understand the ramifications of going against someone of her standing or he knew and didn't care.

... In which case,...there must be a reason behind his confidence.

The Dark Lord was silent after Narcissa stopped speaking, silent as she drowned in her implications. So absorbed in her realisations and her complete misunderstanding of the meeting's real underlying currents, Narcissa missed the cruel spark in laughing crimson eyes. She failed to notice as those blood red orbs watched the subtle emotions play across her features in triumph and satisfaction.

"That will be all, Narcissa."

The soft echo of the Dark Lord's dismissal snapped the blonde witch from her thoughts and she immediately berated herself for loosing focus, especially in this man's presence. No matter who you were, such a lowering of defences was unsafe and dangerous.

"Yes, my lord." She replied quickly before spinning around and heading quickly for the exit, her thoughts still jumbled.

"_Narcissa?_" The dangerous croon of her name had her stiffening defensively in instinct. "I don't want the boy to suffer any...unfortunate accidents, because of any of your family or guests, over the holidays...am I clear?"

She swallowed.

"...Crystal, my lord."

...

_Hey all! Phew, I'm glad I finally got to write that scene. The last two chapters have nearly killed me! I've been dying to write about the Narcissa/ward bit for ages! I've needed to set a couple of things in motion though before then. I wonder though, did it take you all by surprise? I've been dropping enough hints! ;D _

_Please, tell me what you thought! :D _


	13. Curious Tempest

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_NOTE: I never ever actually attach music to scenes in my stories but for Chapter 13 in Art of Hidden Persona's, for one particular section I have. I felt that the music was the EXACT tone that I wanted for the storm scene. I was listening to my ipod on shuffle at the time I was writing the chapter and just put the 2 minute song on continuous repeat for the hour and a half it took me to write the scene. So, to make it easier for all of my wonderful reader's to listen to the music while they read the scene I've decided to put the internet link up on my profile page._

...

Hadrian stared at the empty space within the box with turbulent emotions.

Nothing.

Raven still hadn't replied.

He had wasted no time in writing a lengthy letter to his adoptive Mother the moment he had returned to the dormitories. Sure, that _this, _at least, would ensure a prompt answer of some sort.

It was had been three days and still no word.

Hadrian bent down and returned the priceless magical treasure to under his four-poster bed, safe in the otherwise empty room. Waiting for the magical pulse that indicated it was within the protection of his clever wards; Hadrian scooped up his book bag and headed for the door.

He was running late.

Stepping slowly into the common room he was glad to see hardly any others still present.

As Hadrian climbed out of the portrait hole he attempted to reason with his quickly evolving thoughts.

If Raven somehow, wouldn't or _couldn't_, keep in contact with him he'd just have to find a solution.

Hadrian had noted the burning curiousity of the staff's stares since the startling news of his guardian had come to light, with livid displeasure. It was a disaster, just as he and Raven had always known it would be. McGonagall was suddenly looking to _him_ to answer a question in class. Flitwick had actually spent _ten minutes_ trying to 'help' him correctly cast a spell in Charms yesterday!

Hadrian glared at the worn grey stone beneath his feet for the simple reason that he _knew_, had he been looking directly ahead of him, the storm swirling in his eyes wouldn't escape _any_ whose path crossed his.

Raven and he had spoken of this before he had even started Hogwarts, when they had begun designing his mask. His adoptive Mother's name would call him attention. Staff, and particular students, would keep him in their sights for the simple reason, that his guardian was a rather exceptional magic user with a tumultuous past.

Hadrian _needed_ to stay hidden. Raven's being...complicated that.

He had no intention of relinquishing control over his life and limitations to _anyone_ other than himself. The scrutiny that would befall him, if Raven had ever been discovered, wasn't something he could live with. And he wasn't just talking about his seven years at Hogwarts. Raven had to completely drop off the radar after the first war. She hadn't been convicted but she would always be a suspect. The ministry would monitor her finances, her partners, employment, properties...she had had to give up a lot when she decided to disappear. Luxuries she had lived with all her life would never be available to her again.

But she had her magic.

_That_ was still hers.

Not theirs.

Hadrian had known that if his adoption was ever discovered Raven might be removed as his guardian. The ministry might decide that they couldn't afford to have someone like her influencing him. But they had both believed his uninspiring persona would ensure that he would be returned to the orphanage and not a different family. He would have been free to leave Blackborne at seventeen, and no one would come looking.

With the Malfoys...he shook his head; seething. The guardianship wouldn't end once he was a legal adult. The old families viewed wards as below kin but forever their responsibility; actions could reflect on them badly if not controlled.

That was another reason he had spent the last three days with his eyes locked on the floor whenever he was out in public. The glamour around his eyes had been in a state of flux. Unfortunately, the draw-back of choosing such a powerful, long-lasting glamour for his retinas was that the spell was very particular. He could experience anger, shame, and amusement, but as _soon_ as the level of his emotional stress escalated beyond the point that he wouldn't be capable of exerting the concentration to reapply it if it _did_ fail, it began to unravel. He could just _imagine; _a bitter smile touched his lips, the unending cascade of questions that would be thrown at him if his eyes suddenly began to impulsively lighten and dim for; seemingly, no reason at all!

It was simply safer not to raise his eyes.

And Hadrian's fury had yet to abate. At this point, he doubted it ever really would. He inhaled sharply, in order to control his breathing patterns. He would be _damned_ if the Malfoy family thought they could begin to dictate what he could do and _be_ for the rest of his life.

Clenching his fists tightly, he quickened his pace, travelling briskly through the maze that was Hogwarts's dungeons.

The magical artefact that Raven had given him in his second year had, for years, been used primarily as an indispensible means to further his education. He hadn't wanted his mask to damage his ability. Nevertheless, despite its intended use, the books that Raven would send him every fortnight slowly changed, the items became much more specified over the years. He would send lists of potion ingredients. Points of debate on classical magical theory, letters, a specific book...it had been a way in which for them to communicate that was unfailingly secure.

...Raven's enduring silence and absence was alarming, to say the least.

He gritted his teeth. Unfortunately, he could do nothing from where he was and Hadrian wasn't able to envisage a perfect opportunity just falling into his lap.

He just needed to know that Raven was alright! It was messing with his head in a way he hadn't ever had to deal with before! His concern never gave him a moment's peace! And with the level of his rage in no way reduced...!

Hadrian exhaled angrily. He needed _all_ of his efforts and focus to be on controlling his temper. He would have to find new depths to his tolerance and patience this Christmas, that much, he knew for certain.

Hadrian rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands in frustration. Leaving the school grounds just wasn't an option available to him right now. It would call far too much attention. Dumbledore and the ministry would be forced, through law, to look for him. That would mean there would be a good chance that someone might begin to rifle through his past. They would find glaring holes and limited documentation. And, though he doubted it, they _might_ find something, especially, if the _right_ people decided to drop crumbs of information.

If his real persona was somehow discovered _now_, in the wake of the coming war, Hadrian knew enough about the Headmaster's tactics to know that the old man would be far too concerned and curious to let him just walk away.

His leaving _now_ would be suspicious and foolhardy. It would look as if Hadrian were admitting he had something to hide.

Hadrian's steps slowed down at the ringing truth of that thought. He brought his hand closer to his eyes and stared down at the smooth, clear skin on the back of his hand with a small frown.

...And he did.

...

"You're kidding!"

Landon shook his head negatively and hummed his agreement as Ron whistled beside him.

"I don't understand," Hermione frowned to his left as they walked towards potions, "why is that important?"

Landon smiled at his friend but Ron beat him to the explanation.

"Mione! Raven Nadine was a Black! Haven't you ever heard Sirius talk about her?"He stared at her.

She huffed and was about to reply but Landon jumped in to head off the coming collision. "Ron, that's not exactly fair. You know Sirius doesn't like to talk about her, I told you that." He reminded with a pointed look before focusing back on his female best friend. "I don't know a lot, but Dad told me that Nadine trained Sirius and Bellatrix Lestrange in duelling for a couple of years every summer, while he was at Hogwarts."

Hermione's faced took on an enlightened expression.

"Yeah!" Ron whispered dramatically, "So you can imagine how good she was!"

"Well, what did she do? Why have I never read anything about her?"

Ron answered once again, full of enthusiasm for knowing something the know-it-all third of the trio didn't, for once.

"She was a _Lady_, Hermione. None of old families 'work' like us normal people." He stated with obvious envy. "The Malfoy's and Abbott's, for example, work in politics and manage the family estates and businesses."

Hermione frowned. "Well, what about Madame Bones? She's from an old pureblood family...she works. And what about the Potter's, Landon?"

Landon sighed, "Mum's a muggleborn, Hermione. She'd known what she wanted to do since she was fifteen. And Dad loves being an Auror. But...Mum and Dad still use their holidays to do the family things, Hermione. Dad could have gone into politics, like Lucius Malfoy did, and influenced key legislation if he had wanted to. Narcissa Malfoy handles their daily businesses. Madame Bones is doing a job that her name said she would inherit, Hermione. Her son is old enough now, to help her husband care for the family side of things."

"Oh." Hermione stated with a put out expression. Landon knew that his friend was really just annoyed to find out that those of the pureblood's that she had always thought of as useless layabouts, actually had legitimate and time consuming responsibilities.

"How did you hear about this...Walker guy anyway Landon...I don't even remember him. Are you certain he's in our year?" Ron scowled at the group attempting to eavesdrop in front of them.

"I'm not surprised Ron. I had to think twice before I could put a face to his name." Hermione answered.

"Yeah, I'm sure. And Dad told me. He thought it would be good for me to know." Landon grinned at the jealous and disapproving looks on Ron and Hermione's faces.

"In a way, it's kind of a letdown. You'd think that this Walker guy would be a tad more interesting, considering who he grew up with." Ron grumbled.

"And the Malfoy's are taking him in?" Hermione ignored Ron's comment easily and asked Landon in clarification.

Potter nodded. "Yep."

Hermione's face looked uncertain as she said her next words slowly, "I don't know... I kind of feel sorry for him. Being taken away from the only parent he's ever known, to live with people like the Malfoy's! I must be hard."

Landon rolled his eyes while Ron scoffed.

"Oh, come off it, Mione! The guy's probably over the moon! Getting to live in all that luxury, rent free?" The red head glared spitefully.

The bushy haired witch glared at the clear dismissal of her sensitive comment. "Well, I'd like to see how you would react in a similar situation, Ronald!" She spat.

Landon laughed as the three of them entered the classroom and took their customary seats at the back of the Gryffindor side of the lab. Hermione and Ron now fully engrossed in one of their familiar arguments.

Landon allowed his eyes to dance among his classmates, searching for a face that he didn't immediately recognise. Try as he might, and no matter how often Hermione recounted small instances where the Golden Trio had come in contact with Hadrian Walker, he just could not remember the boy.

Incessant poking quickly drew his annoyed attention and he turned to Ron with a frown. "What?" He snapped.

"Look." His hazel eyes followed the direction of Ron's raised chin with curiousity.

Draco Malfoy.

Landon wouldn't go as far as to say that the Slytherin looked unhappy or livid, more...simmering displeasure. His bland emotions were understandable, he guessed. From what his Father had told him, the blonde had had a couple of days to come to grips with the news of his household's newest member.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that Walker won't be getting a warm welcome when he gets to his new home for the holidays." Landon snorted quietly.

The bushy haired witch beside him leaned forward with a pronounced wrinkle between her brows. "Why would the Malfoy's have taken such drastic action, do you think?" She questioned heatedly. The familiar light that always entered her brown orbs, when she encountered a puzzle; she was determined to unravel, sparkled in her eyes. "_Draco_ certainly is not happy with the change." Hermione insisted.

"The twerp's just acting normally, Mione. I'm sure he's furious at having to share his own personal wing of Malfoy Manor with someone else for the first time in his life." Ron guffawed, clearly delirious with his enemy's discontent.

Landon winced slightly when he glimpsed Hermione's narrowed eyes from the corner of his own gaze. She looked ready to launch into one of her infamous tirades any second.

With a theatrical bang, the side door leading to Professor Snape's private office slammed open, immediately hushing the entire class.

Severus Snape glided swiftly up to the front of the class, flicking his wand and non-verbally summoning each student's homework essay; from where they sat waiting on the top of the desks, as he went.

"I must confess, that having finally finished marking the test you all took last week, that _your_ particular year, has accomplished an _amazing_ _feat_." If it wasn't for the identity of the man and the inescapable sarcasm, Landon would have been fairly excited right about now. "You adolescents have _finally_ managed to prove a prophecy and wisdom, that has been passed down through _countless_ generations of individuals, from _all_ walks of life and varying talent; incorrect." The Potions professor spun on his heel abruptly, having reached the front desk, and fixed the class with a withering glare. "_Congratulations_. It seems that not _all_ things improve with time."

Landon could literally feel the effort Hermione was exerting in order to withhold her adamant objections that it wasn't true. She had a tough grip on her bushy brown hair, and, Landon grimaced slightly, was she actually biting her nails _right_ next to him?

The Potter heir forced his eyes to look to the front.

And, oh look, _apparently_ he was just in time. Snape, it seemed, had decided that sarcasm just wasn't cutting his need to drag all his students self esteem through the mud.

"Mr Finnegan!"

Seamus smiled weakly, "Yes, sir?"

"Can you tell me what potions we've been covering in the last month of classes, Mr Finnegan?" The Potions Master whispered softly, black eyes locked on the nervous Gryffindor.

"Um," Landon felt sympathy for his roommate's plight as he watched the Irish wizard try to subtly glance at his neighbours for help. None was forthcoming. "...healing potions...? Sir!" He added hastily, the respectful term a clear afterthought.

"Yikes." Landon breathed to his male best friend. Ron barely even moved his eyes to shoot him a confused look. He rolled his eyes at the typical deafness; the red haired boy had been far too engrossed with the drama unfolding before him.

"Incredible, Finnegan." Snape placed his palms on the desk and leaned forward imposingly. "Your fail would suggest that even _that_ fact had escaped you."

"Well, isn't someone just filled with sunshine?" Landon muttered under his breath mutinously.

The fact that he was suddenly on the receiving end of one of Professor Snape's more...noteworthy glares, swiftly informed him that it hadn't been the best time to speak, flippantly or otherwise.

"What was that, Mr Potter?"

Merlin! Did the man have super hearing or something? Maybe there was more credence to the vampire rumours then he had previously thought.

"Nothing, sir." He answered quietly.

The Potions Master's head tilted to the left slightly and Landon suddenly had the feeling that a dangerous predator was sizing him up.

"Talking to yourself, Mr Potter? I would be careful if I were you." The Slytherin's snickered. "Imagine how disappointed your remaining fans would be, if such unstable behaviour reached the wrong ears...say, the Daily Prophet." Landon lifted his chin in defiance. "It just might slow down those tentative speculations your Father has tried so hard to plant. The ones concerning the possible return of our saviour's healthy and balanced state of mind."

Landon scowled at the Slytherin Head of House, fuming. Before he had even come to a decision on whether to stay silent or not the Professor had already changed the subject.

"You will each be brewing the muscle regenerative serum. If, by the end of the hour, you do not, for some reason of another, have a perfect potion in front of you, I will give you a fail."

Landon glared at his most hated professor as he smirked down at the outraged class.

Hermione's hand shot into the air, the limb flying wildly in the extraordinary circumstance that she might be missed.

"Miss Granger. What _scintillating_ queries do you have for the class today?"

Landon clenched the wooden table angrily, as he saw Hermione deflate slightly at the mocking tone but was pleased to see that stubborn light enter her eyes quickly enough and her back straighten bravely.

"Excuse me, Professor, but why a fail, surely..."

"_Surely_, Granger," Snape interrupted with a snap and an angry flare of his nostrils, "it is not unreasonable for a teacher to expect his students to know material they have read and attempted multiple times! _Surely_! It would be _logical_ that an experienced Potions Master, like myself, would have more knowledge and sense than a seventeen year old know-it..."

The soft squeak of the opening door to the Potions lab stopped Professor Snape mid rant and effectively drew the entire room's attention.

A small, shy figure pushed through the tiny gap behind the thick wood with a bowed head and eyes locked on the damaged stone ground. Landon shifted in his seat and raised his eyebrows in appreciation. It took guts to walk into Potions fifteen minutes late.

He watched, along with the rest of the class, as the unknown figure finally shifted slightly, understanding that he would have to be the first to break the silence.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor." The wizards tone was mild but that wasn't unexpected considering the student's _physique. But his words ____were__ steady. _

_The Potter heir leaned backwards as he continued to observe the unexpected scene. Even he would have some slight discomfort and possible difficulty getting his words out without a stutter in the boy's place. _

_"While certainly more eloquent than you are known to be, Walker, your words do not excuse lateness to my class." _

_Landon's spine straightened as the mystery student's identity was disclosed. He quickly swung his eyes around to Malfoy, curious to see his reaction. _

_The blonde's mouth was curled in disgust and his body was tense, glaring at his housemate intensely before turning away. _

_Landon frowned, he hadn't known that Slytherin even ____had__ an outcast, he realised, as he discreetly surveyed the irritated dismissals of the majority of Walker's other housemate's._

_"I understand, Professor. May I take my seat now?" Walker's quiet, controlled manner didn't alter in the slightest as he uttered the daring words. _

_Landon own eyebrow's rose as Ron exhaled sharply with a quiet chuckle from beside him._

_"You know," Ron grinned at him with eager eyes, "for a Slytherin, he's got balls." _

Landon quirked his lip at the humour but couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Ron, the guy hasn't even looked up _once,_ since he set foot in the room. Personally, I think his bold utterance is more _accident_ than plan. He has _no idea_ his Head of House is currently trying to set his head on fire with the mere power of his glare." He whispered.

Ron shot him an amused, yet, conceding glance. "Do you suppose we'll ever know what he looks like?" The red head joked quietly. Walker still hadn't raised his head or eyes from their submissive position.

Professor Snape's mouth twisted horribly, "I want two extra sheets of parchment on the assignment from you, Walker." He snarled, before whirling and waving his wand at the blackboard, where, a moment later, the serum's instructions materialised.

Landon ignored Hermione's disapproving stare as he watched Walker shuffle silently to a lone table on the Slytherin side of the room. Head still bowed, eyes locked on something below him.

"Doesn't look like it." He murmured.

...

Hadrian exhaled loudly, and, with a glare, slammed the cover of the dusty book in front of him closed.

He shoved the tome away from himself roughly and planted his elbows on the circular library table, gripping his dank, brown hair in his fists painfully.

Nothing.

There was nothing _new_!

He growled in angry frustration before lashing out and kicking the chair opposite him with enough force to send it careening down one of the deserted book aisles surrounding him. There wasn't any chance of being overheard; he was far too deep in the library's dusty and damp depths.

He released his mattered, oily hair with an exhausted sigh.

He had known he wouldn't find anything new. It had him taken _hours_ of relentless searching in order to find the Greccas Trillium potion. It was the only solution Hogwarts could offer him. But Hadrian hadn't been able to stop himself.

He had counted on the winter break to give him the opportunity to delve into his personal library at home, before he was forced to take the then highly toxic third dose...or give in.

He closed his eyes and pressed the heels of his hands against his temples. He moved them in slow circles trying, in vain, to appease the migraine that had plagued him since he had woken that morning.

Tomorrow was Sunday and he, along with the majority of the student populous, would be boarding the Hogwarts express for Christmas break.

"I don't think that's the best way to cure a headache. Especially, a tension induced one."

Hadrian's hands stilled and his eyes snapped open.

...No way.

"Longbottom." He deadpanned, lowering his elbows and sitting back in his chair.

"Glad to see your exhaustion hasn't made you careless." The Gryffindor grinned, his cheeks dimpling, as he lifted the chair Hadrian had previously attacked and took a seat opposite him.

Hadrian bit his lip to stop the snarl that wanted to escape him. "What makes you think I'm exhausted, Longbottom?" He asked stiffly.

The boy laughed before shrugging. "Apart from the fact, that I was able to sneak up on you? Haven't we already been through this?"

Hadrian blinked.

Was Longbottom saying...? The Gryffindork couldn't possibly...! It wasn't...!

"By the way, I think that it's just better to get these sorts of things out in the open, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't try to obliviate me again. Nasty headache."

Before Longbottom could even register it, Hadrian had his wand at his throat.

"Explain." Hadrian's mind was flying back to that day. He couldn't find any reason why the memory charm wouldn't have worked. He was certain that he had cast it correctly. But here was the living proof, right in front of him.

The Gryffindor coughed lightly, "Has anyone ever told you that you use the threat of violence in a _very_ unethical way."

Green eyes narrowed at the innocent face, "No." He enunciated clearly.

"You could just ask."

A slow grin spread across his lips, "I find that people are quicker with their answers when I'm in a position to hex off their means of procreation."

Hadrian watched as Neville's eyes widened slightly. "Point taken. However, in this situation; unnecessary. If I meant to cause you any trouble, I would have told the truth when Madame Pomfrey asked me how it was that I was found unconscious with suddenly severe facial acne."

Hadrian stared at the boy, "Okay." After all, Longbottom had a point, albeit a small one. "Why didn't the obliviate charm work on you? I know the problem wasn't my spellwork." As he spoke, Hadrian lowered his wand and smoothly slid back into his uncomfortable wooden chair.

The Gryffindor raised his left hand to touch his bare throat lightly before he focused and laughed. "Confident, aren't you." The smile quickly faded as the empath 'felt' exactly how self-assured he was. Brown eyes were suddenly excited, "_Merlin_! How advanced _are_ you, Walker?"

Hadrian's hand twitched towards his wand in irritation but apparently his spike in aggression was enough to swiftly get Longbottom back on track.

"As an empath, I enjoy certain...perks, if you will." He began.

"Like what?" Hadrian interrupted. He was not above milking the other's talkative mood for his own purposes. That included rectifying his previous mistake and knowing the limits of what might be...a future problem.

"Can we tone down on the cunning and self satisfying deviousness, here, please?" Neville grimaced.

"Longbottom, I'm beginning to lose whatever patience I possess. Get on with it." He growled darkly.

The Gryffindor sighed before leaning forward to fold his arms on the wooden table. "From what I've read, and it has been limited, wizards and witches build their Occlumency barriers on...thoughts and memories. They are what you deal with everyday; what is familiar to you. But, as an empath, I see the world through emotions. My mind is protected by shields someone who wasn't an empath would never be able to...figure out, understand. It's difficult to explain but, normal magic users can not invade and alter something where basic understanding of its nature is absent. When you attempted to wipe my memories it was like asking a unicorn, a being incapable of understanding negative emotions, to cast the killing curse."

Hadrian contemplated the information, turning it over in his mind. It was possible, he reasoned. What Longbottom had just explained, in fairly crude terms, was a key concept that applied to many magics. It was the reason that wizards couldn't cast Goblin magic or ever begin to read the stars with the same instinctive talent as the centaurs.

"Hey!" The indignant call caught his annoyed attention. "I'm not something you can _study_, Walker."

He smirked. "Stop rifling through my emotions and you might not be so offended next time."

Longbottom shrugged with a sheepish grin, "I can't help it. You're interesting."

Hadrian raised a brow.

The chubby face looked confused for a moment before mortification suddenly morphed his features. "Not in a stalkerish kind of way!"

Hadrian caught sight of one of the dusty tomes out of the corner of his eye and his thoughts were, once again, instantly inundated with the disasters he had been agonising over for the past week.

It was amazing that the question of Longbottom had managed to so completely distract as it was.

It seemed that as soon as his mind had worked through and analysed the possible repercussions and threat of the Gryffindor, in typical Slytherin self-preservation behaviour, it switched focus.

"Do you want any help?" The concerned voice of the empath had Hadrian gritting his teeth.

"_How_ did you know where I was?" He demanded harshly.

Shrug. "Easy. Your emotions have been screaming at me for the past week. You're crabby, worried, furious...scared." Longbottom raised his voice when Hadrian's back straightened and he looked as if he would interrupt. "_That_ is all wrapped up in some serious urgency. You don't seem the type to overreact or let someone sneak up on you, so...do you want some help?"

Hadrian fumed, at, what _he_ considered, a _highly_ distasteful invasion of privacy, and pulled the largest book towards him sharply. Letting his side glare tell the boy _exactly_ what he thought of his offer and emotional run-down.

"I wouldn't do that."

Hadrian inhaled slowly through his nose trying to calm his raw temper. "Why?"He drawled softly, his tone hinting at threat.

"Because Professor Snape is looking for you."

That caught his attention.

He looked up at Longbottom, through his lashes. "...What?"

"Your Head of House was the Professor in charge of supervising the compulsory duelling class today. Where _you_ ought to have been. He was his normal, pissed off with the world, self, when he noticed that _you_ weren't there. He asked your classmate's if there knew of your whereabouts and, of course, they didn't. Oh, by the way, whatever has had Malfoy so distracted this past week is wearing off. He was curiously suspicious of your location."

_Great._

Hadrian knew that he had been lucky that Draco's anger had clouded his thoughts and, consequently, logic, for the past few days because his acting had been less than inspired.

"Anyway, Snape's on a war path with you as the goal at the end of his trajectory. Good luck with that."

Hadrian stood from his chair and began to pack up the numerous books surrounding him, including the ones spread all over the floor. The price, when he was feeling particularly vicious about his situation.

"So what's with the hyperactive joy, Longbottom?" Hadrian finally called the Gryffindor on his suspicious lack of resentment or fear, as he swung his book bag onto his shoulder and turned to regard the silent empath.

His companion must have felt his simmering wish to leave as his slight smile quickly melted away and a serious expression suddenly dominated his brown eyes.

"You knew." He declared.

Hadrian tightened his grip on the bag's strap before smirking lightly. "It wasn't hard."

"Don't _ever_ try something like the obliviate you pulled, again, Walker."Longbottom stated solemnly.

"Your grandmother...she doesn't know about gift." Hadrian ignored the small threat easily. Not the least bit perturbed.

The empath shifted uncomfortably, "No."

"But you _did_ lie about her opinion of you, didn't you?" Hadrian mocked.

Longbottom's lips remained tight and a stubborn set to his jaw emerged.

"What are you _really _capable of, Neville?"

Hadrian watched as a thin facade of permanent puzzlement descended over unimaginative brown eyes. Before he turned, and began to walk away, his mind already free-falling into his own chaotic problems.

"I won't say anything, Walker." Longbottom's call from behind him, momentarily recalled his attention.

Hadrian stilled in his forward progress.

A cruel, taunting smirk spread across red lips.

Slowly, he turned his body, so that green locked with brown.

"..._I know_."

Faint, haunting chuckles floated through the deserted, shadowy section of the library.

"I never would have lowered my wand, otherwise."

...

_**... (SONG for this scene: Little Impulse by Michael Nyman from 'The Piano')...**_

Within the cold depths of Hogwarts dungeons, a lone figure danced hypnotically around a large cauldron filled to the brim with sinister, swirling green liquid.

The sky outside was unendingly black with the extreme lateness of the hour.

In fact, within the slumbering ancient halls of the magical institution only a sparse few were still aware. A sharp yowl echoed down through the third floor as a cat took off after a fat, grey mouse, intent on hunting for its meal. Four house elves were unaware of the age old steps of the predator and prey below them as they cleaned the slime off the roof of the Charms class; a messy prank gone wrong. The castle's Headmaster paced distractedly within his study while a stalking Filch, intent on catching the darling couple up in the astronomy tower, barrelled awkwardly up the lazy staircases.

But it was the graceful young wizard that moved with such fluidity, which held the storm's attention and no other.

Harsh waves of ice and snow beat at the impenetrable stone walls that were the castle's defence with rage and purpose. The blizzard churned angrily as the wind howled and swept the snow up to terrifying towers of height.

The man bent smoothly to turn down the flame so the potion wouldn't boil over. A powerful, twin fork of lightening lit up the darkness ominously for, but a moment. He crossed the deserted classroom floor to lean his hip against the wide window sill, pulling, from his back pocket, a folded sheet of parchment as he went.

The thunder clapped spectacularly, shaking the ground beneath the forbidden trees as it watched the wizard. The figure silently transfigured a simple brown hair into an ink bottle and standard quill. Neat, flowing script began to form on the yellowing parchment, it wasn't the most beautiful cursive; too practical.

Startling wind surged past the window, shaking the glass in their panes with its keen ferocity. The wizard's gaze never moved from where he was now signing his name with a flourish. He simply raised an open palm and placed it against the ice encrusted glass, steadying the powerful tremors.

Flecks of ice battered against the window, scraping the surface with hissing spurts of anger at the human intervention.

The young man stood slowly, folding the letter carefully, before leaning forward and grasping a hold of the freezing, antique metal latch.

Spinning pockets of soft snow fell to the ground in disbelieving excitement.

The wild, chaotic tempest howled its victory as the figure casually pushed the window open before standing silently, arms crossed, regarding the untamed black sky with unreadable, dull, green orbs.

Lightning ripped through the heavens in triumph as arctic wind wailed through the small break in the arrogant castle's defences. Vengeful ice and joyful snow invaded the classroom in great gusts of activity.

Thunder rolled languidly amongst the heavy clouds with more control, gazing down at the unmoving, unaffected wizard below.

With no warning, that any but the graceful figure seemed to identify, a large, pitch black owl swooped strongly through the open window to land on one of the empty tables in the derelict space.

Clusters of speeding air currents screeched loudly at the unseen animal and coiled tighter, whipping through and past the wizard's hair in fury.

The man turned slightly, "Hello Hades." He smirked at the bird as if they shared a strange secret and ice bit at the exposed skin on his angled neck in testy annoyance.

"Take this to Demetri." Cultured darkness saturated the figure's words of instruction.

The owl spread its sable wings, exposing an impressive wingspan. One beat of the appendages and it dived down to clutch the wizard's letter in its charcoal beak.

"Hurry, Hades."

The unique owl seemed to blink at his master in understanding before it spun around and braved the ice and storm.

Dangerous currents of wind sought, in vain passion, to capture the sly escapee. It howled its fury and the young man watched; emotionless, as the ebony envoy skilfully escaped its intentions and vanished from all sight.

The wizard stood, motionless, against the undeniable force of the frenzied snowstorm. Watching the inky sky in silence.

Lightning ignited in concentration, throwing splashes of lights across the sleeping stronghold.

Tedious olive eyes were intense and absolutely still.

The figure unmoving.

Thunder answered, crashing proudly above the Black lake, sending waves of shock through the surface water below.

Rivulets of an astonishing verdant colour began to fracture those irises.

Wintry air circled the man, constricting, determined to get a closer look at the strange phenomenon.

He breathed deeply, sucking in the freezing cold, ignoring the painful pins and needles continuing their gradual spread through his limbs in protest of the bitter cold.

Eyes exploded with glowing emerald colour and snow reared back only to return the subsequent instant.

Thunder rumbled loudly in surprise.

The wizard spun swiftly and returned to the now cold potion. He lifted three, small, glass vials from the neighbouring desk and dipped each one into the neon green liquid before stoppering them with a simple cork.

He breathed deeply.

The figure reached out and grabbed an empty glass before skimming it across the wide surface of the cauldron's gently swirling potion.

Ice nipped painfully at his fingers, demanding attention, but it didn't deter him. The young man's glowing eyes fluttered closed and he drank deeply.

With a deafening crash the empty glass shattered against the stone wall. Wind sped by with mocking amusement as the figure heaved quietly with the force he had put into the throw.

The wizard just stood there for a while; breathing, before he opened his eyes and flicked his wand.

The dangerous shards of glass and remainder of cold potion vanished.

The chaotic tempest watched as the man scooped up the three vials and opened the classroom's door, quickly disappearing down the arctic corridor.

Lightning lit up the sky in a spectacular array of energy and thunder joined its laughter. Merciless ice and wind delighted in the broken defences of the conceited one thousand year old structure.

Emerald orbs fell closed, in exhaustion.

...

Draco looked out across the crowds of rugged up students and carpet of pristine white snow with a reluctant tick in his jaw.

"Do you see him?" Daphne asked from beside him as she blew into the hands she had cupped to her mouth in an effort to get warm.

"No." His tone rose warningly at the end. He was in no mood for one of her lectures.

"I was just asking." She glared defensively.

"What was Mother thinking when she sent me that note at breakfast? 'Make sure you sit with Hadrian on the train, Draco'! I'm not going to be able to avoid him for the next three weeks and she wants me to start early? _Unbelievable_!" He muttered angrily into the charcoal scarf wrapped around his neck.

"Perhaps, your Mother was thinking that it would be easier on _you_ not to have to go through the hassle of finding him when we get to Kings cross station, Draco." Daphne said pointedly.

He sighed. "I know, I _know_ that!" He replied in frustration, more to remind himself than her.

"Would that be him, do you think?" Daphne asked as she pointed her finger off to the side.

There, trudging amongst a pack of sixth year Gryffindors; was Hadrian Walker.

"Finally." Draco breathed out angrily and started forward with Daphne at his side.

"Walker!" He barked out.

The Gryffindors quickly scattered at the blonde's appearance while the aforementioned individual looked up with an expressionless face.

"Yes, Draco?" Walker asked as he came to a stop him front of the two.

"You're to sit with us on the train." He commanded. "We've been standing out here _freezing_, while waiting for you, so hurry up." He motioned once with his hand to follow and started off.

"Is that really necessary, Malfoy?"

Draco paused at the unexpected response and turned back but Daphne answered for him.

"Walker, the Malfoy's have been kind enough to take you in, the _least_ you could do is be gracious about it and show a little...gratitude." She said.

Draco looked at Walker; he knew that the boy hadn't been happy with the change in his circumstances from the meeting in the Headmaster's office.

"..._Gratitude_?" The Slytherin outcast echoed numbly.

The loud, two minute warning whistle of the train rang painfully through the frosty air.

"Come on." He beckoned the pair to follow him and swiftly made his way onto the train.

The Malfoy heir led them through the coach's skinny walkway, past full compartments and multiple carriages.

"Will there be enough room in the cabin?" Walker questioned softly from the back of their single file organisation.

Draco didn't answer immediately; instead, he came to a stop at a familiar compartment and slid open the glass door. Then, he twisted around. "I'm certain." He sneered.

Daphne followed him through the door, both of them shrugging out of their heavy overcoats, scarves and hats.

"Draco? What's Walker doing here?" Nott asked, with a look of disdain aimed at the boy standing stupidly at the open doorway.

"Mother." He answered. And that seemed reason enough for his friends.

"Sit." He gestured impatiently to the empty seat next to Theo, waiting until Walker had sat down before he slid into his own beside Blaise.

The other's quickly got lost in superficial conversation, mindful of their unwanted guest, while Draco pulled out an advanced Potions text.

He didn't look up once, until about an hour into their journey.

Walker hadn't even taken off his coat, he noted with annoyance. The boy was just staring; _blankly_, at the luggage overhang opposite him, above Draco. As if sensing his observance, Walker's eyes shifted to his. He held them for a moment, just long enough to convey to the other that he was far from embarrassed to be caught staring, before he went back to his book.

"...Yes, Mother and Father just signed the final contract a week ago." Daphne said to Blaise, while pushing the dozing Pansy off of her to rest against the vertical window pane.

"So, Astoria has herself a future husband and you still refuse to concede to an arranged marriage." Blaise smirked tauntingly.

The witch glared heatedly. "You know as well as I do, Blaise, that my parents are simply humouring me, as loathe as I am to admit it. Father hinted that I would have a contract of my own before the year is out." She snapped angrily, clearly upset.

"It's not that bad. I'm going to marry some Swedish girl and Draco here..."

"...Is none of your business." The Malfoy heir finished.

Theo grinned at him. "Your Mother is notoriously tight lipped on the subject, Draco. Do you even know where you will be once you graduate?"

"Far away from you." He quipped with an amused quirk to his lips.

His eye caught the scrutinizing gaze of Walker and he felt a frown pull down between his brows. The stark difference had the attention of the others and they all turned to look at the object of his focus.

"What about you, Walker? Any marriage plans in the future? Did your '_Mother'_ arrange anything?" Blaise mocked, placing particular sarcastic emphasis on the word.

The other boy turned away stiffly. "No."

"Well, you never know, Lady Malfoy may have something planned for you." Theo grinned tauntingly, clearly not believing his own words.

Draco shot him a small glare, not appreciating the use of his Mother in the targeted slur. To even jokingly suggest such a thing was abhorrent to him. As if Walker could _ever_ be considered Malfoy enough for such an event to occur.

"Somehow," Walker's voice was low and rather strained. "I doubt that."

"I'm going to go see where the _hell _the candy cart is, it should have been here at least half an hour ago." Pansy grinned, their discussion having woken her, before jumping up from her seat and leaving the compartment.

"I guess I better go check on my cousin as well, make sure that she's alright." Theo grumbled as he followed Pansy's path, shutting the glass door firmly behind him.

"I wonder if that's what the two of them are _really _doing." Blaise waggled his eye brows.

Daphne grimaced and hit him lightly on the bicep. "I can do without your insinuations, Blaise." She sniffed.

As his two best friends descended into a futile argument, Draco kept his eyes on his family's new ward.

A sharp pecking on glass captured everyone's interest and the blonde turned to the window, only to feel his mouth drop open in shock.

"Merlin! If that isn't the biggest owl I've ever seen! Draco, is it yours?" Blaise's tone held a sprinkling of awe as the pure-blood shook his head.

The owl was magnificent! Regal. Colour of such undiluted blackness, he had never seen!

Draco hurriedly rose to his feet to let the titan messenger, which put his own fierce falcon to shame, inside the cabin. He was convinced that the awesome creature had only come to their compartment by mistake but was eager and willing to take advantage of the situation.

He was in the process of reaching for the latch when a firm hand halted his actions.

"Walker!" Daphne exclaimed. "What are you doing? Let him go." She shouted.

Draco scowled and angrily shook off the hand. "_Don't_ touch me, Walker!" He growled, expecting the wizard to jump back at the clear threat in his tone.

He didn't.

Walker actually had the _audacity_ to re-grip the hand pushing the window open in a firmer hold.

"Malfoy...!" The boy's voice was hard but suddenly cut off.

Draco drove his sharp elbow deep into the other's soft belly, barely registering the furious, piercing screech that was muffled by the rushing wind, glass insulation and train engines outside.

"_Don't_ _touch me_!" He glared down at the winded Walker, who had fallen to the floor at the unseen swiftness of the attack.

Draco sneered furiously and opened the window with a powerful forward thrust.

Mercury eyes widened. The large owl shot through the space and Draco hurriedly twirled around.

"..._Walker?_"

The glorious bird had landed next to Hadrian, who was sitting up and wiping away the small bit of dirt on his cheek with the back of his hand. The other reached out to stroke the bristling owl in reassurance.

"Is that your owl?" Daphne's tone was disbelieving.

Hadrian plainly ignored her as he hauled himself up from the floor and into his own seat, leaning forward to take the letter from its talons

"Why did you try to stop me from letting it in?" Draco demanded as he crossed his arms over his chest. It was the wizard's own fault if he was hurt! He waited impatiently for an answer. The _least_ Walker could do was make eye contact!

"_Because_," The word was hard and soft. "Hades _isn't_ a real big fan of people. I _thought_ I would do you a kind service and save you from the bloody scratches on your arm." The clipped retort had Draco looking down in surprise. He hadn't even felt them.

"Tried a little hard didn't you?" Daphne pressed.

"I hadn't believed, at the time, that my _actions_ would result in being winded and bruised. _Rest assured_, I shall _never_ let my common decency guide my actions around your company again."

Draco hid his amusement. It had been a particularly cutting reply for an amateur.

"What species is your owl, Walker?" Draco enquired, watching as those depthless black eyes surveyed the three of them coolly. Apparently, _its_ observation was the only one needed as Hadrian had _yet_ to raise his gaze to look at them. "It seems...remarkably intelligent."

Walker slid his letter into the inside pocket of his coat, making no move to break the particularly flamboyant wax seal in their presence.

"I don't know." Walker's words were stilted and Draco narrowed his eyes.

His lack of knowledge was an unlikely fact but he let it go. The pureblood couldn't think of a reason the other would want to lie anyhow.

"Aren't you going to open your letter?" Blaise gestured imperiously.

The sable courier turned and flew out into the sky with a single beat of its powerful wings. Its unexpected action forcing Daphne to move backwards hastily with an unpleasant grimace.

"...No." Eyes locked intently on the cabin's old, burgundy carpet.

...

Silver light, from the full moon outside, cast sinister shadows and shapes through the heavy curtains partially drawn back from the windows.

A perfectly manicured fingernail slowly traced the path of a thin, white scar on the open palm of his hand.

According to his calculations, the mark should have disappeared seven days ago...at the very latest.

Crimson eyes glinted eerily as they considered the small imperfection in silence.

He had been incorrect, it seems.

The elegant, long fingered hand slowly twisted, as, one by one, the fingers curled into a loose fist.

How..._unexpected_.

He brushed the tip of his wand against his chin in amused thought.

What had the boy done?

...

_Hey! ;D Please, don't forget to read and review! :D_


	14. Gossiping Paintings!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Hadrian had to try very hard not to sneer as he looked up at the imposing beauty of Malfoy Manor.

There wasn't another house, building or person in sight. The estate's grounds were far too extensive to be seen from only one particular vantage. The manor, he noted with derision, was shaped like a three sided cube. A ridiculously sized cube; with hundreds of sparkling windows and a grand outside flight of steps that extended nearly ten meters in length.

Hadrian watched his school companion as he strode quickly ahead of him, letting the disgusted curl of his lips flutter across his face, safe, in the knowledge; that no one was around to see it. As far as he was concerned, the blonde boy was lucky he had made it home with both his legs still functioning.

The pair had left Kingscross station in total silence. Neither saying a word. Malfoy had glided through the platform barrier with his nose stuck in the air without even a glance behind to check if his housemate was following or had been understandably lost in the sea of people. Hadrian hadn't bothered to ask any details of how they were getting to Malfoy Manor, because honestly? He didn't care to know.

He'd simply scrunched his toes in his boots and followed Draco as they walked away from the more populated places of muggle London, carefully undoing the Ministry's charm for detection of underage magic as he went. There was no way in hell that he would step one foot inside Malfoy Manor without having full access to his magic.

He had been caught unawares as the blonde's hand suddenly snapped backwards and pressed an object against his person. The unpleasant swirling of the portkey brought them to a deserted, wide expanse of green landscape, only broken by a motionless, black carriage clearly waiting for them on the small country lane.

Hadrian had allowed his body to fall heavily onto the moist ground, ignoring the uncomfortable jarring of his neck from the purposefully clumsy landing.

"Get up, Walker." Draco had called over his shoulder as he started for the carriage, having successfully landed on his feet. "I will not wait for you, and it's a thirty mile walk."

Willing himself not to murder the brat that had been fanning his temper all day, Hadrian climbed to his feet and brushed his green stained palms roughly against his trousers. Demetri's letter, inside the breast pocket of his robes, crinkling noisily in protest of his movements

Hadrian walked to the carriage briskly. The Malfoy heir would never know how close to danger he had come today.

When Hades had flown into the train compartment carrying the much anticipated reply he had had to forcibly stop himself from cursing the blonde pureblood as he reached out to let the black owl inside. A covetous expression had dominated Malfoy's aristocratic features as Hadrian had wrapped a firm grip around his arm, stopping his actions. He wasn't just about to sit back and allow the idiots to read Demetri's reply. And they would have, given the opportunity.

He had been completely shocked when that sharp elbow had knocked him to the cabin floor. He hadn't expected Malfoy to use 'muggle' methods.

The Slytherins had been purposely attempting to push his buttons all day and his mood had been less than generous, running on a slow simmer. When Hadrian had looked up, into those three arrogantly sneering faces with Hades's black eyes furious through the thick glass, Hadrian had had to do something that he never thought would be needed.

In his fourth year he had read a potions book which had made a reference to a witch or wizard releasing excess magic into their environment to dissipate peacefully. Actually accomplishing such a feat needed large amounts of control and an uncommonly deep understanding and connection to one's own magical core. He had researched it and found that such a method could, in a sense, cool 'emotions' as magic was saturated in them.

Hadrian had had to actually send a pulse of his magic through the train's underbelly, into the ground.

His magic and anger had responded so efficiently to the unforseen attack that he had been left with no other option, which maddened him to no end. He could only hope, at this point, that the magical spike had gone unnoticed, too far away from both Hogwarts and the Ministry to be registered as anything other than the normal magical currents.

He hadn't ever thought he would actually have to use it. He kept such a hold on his emotions at all times that he didn't ever allow it to build to such an extent that he would need to take such drastic action. Even in the Headmaster's office, when his rage and control had been balancing on a knife's edge he hadn't needed to. He had controlled his magic from the outset. He hadn't let it accumulate. He had anticipated.

On the train...

He hadn't been expecting Draco's physical assault.

The incredible speed with which his emotions and magic had reacted was a skill Hadrian had fought for years to control. He had practiced and practiced for hours so that he didn't need to call his magic to the surface. So, that that aspect of a rebuttal, was second nature. Quick.

His temper had been building steadily. The stress from having had to take the second dose of the potion, Raven's silence, Narcissa Malfoy's interference...Hadrian had had to act swiftly, hope that it would go unseen. It was either release the magic build-up so it could settle into the surroundings quietly or...unleash it.

Draco had been lucky. His magic was a mirror of his state of mind. It was stressed, feeling threatened, paranoid to an extent and itching to release some tension. It would have been...violent in its retribution.

The carriage ride was spent in merciful silence. Hadrian guessed that Malfoy wished to show, with his lack of speech, exactly how unhappy he was with his presence. Despite his situation, Hadrian let himself take some small measure of childish pleasure from that fact. Five minutes into the bumpy journey they crossed into the magically protected and secure land of the Dark pureblood family.

Hadrian's eyes sharpened with thought as he felt the tell-tale slide of the wards slither across his body. He made note of their geographical location and, despite himself; was impressed by the power and scope of the ancient protections.

From what little he had been able to garner from the ward's two second examination of him they were...extensive. All the basics were there; anti-apparation, anti-portkey, some pretty complicated structures to deal with floo access and...his eyebrows rose...animagus detection? That particular ward would magically inform the owner of the property as to the form of the animagus and place a subtle tracing charm to monitor their location. It was a highly specialised ward and not many bothered with it. It was designed to capture, not repel. Apparently, according to the Ministry, the ward was dangerous and a gross invasion of privacy. Hadrian would estimate less than five pureblood families within Britain had the funds and determination to erect such a targeted defence.

Interesting. Who was Lucius Malfoy, willing to spend a small fortune in gold, trying to keep out?

He wasn't yet capable of recognising the older wards. The one's specially designed for the Malfoy Manor hundreds of years ago but he was able to 'taste' their flavour. It was the first step in ward understanding, to be able to identify through mood. The older ones reeked of strength and malice, with a strong will to protect. In other words, Hadrian might not know exactly what they were but he knew that they were geared to the physical protection of the occupants and that they would attack rather than defend against intruders.

Hadrian's mouth twisted slightly as he watched his companion stalk through the open entrance doors, easily three meters high, without a word. Clearly expecting him to just follow.

He let his eyes take in the beautifully manicured landscape behind him before forcing his steps to follow.

One day, Hadrian would be able to read and analyse those wards in mere seconds. Effortlessly bend them to his will and dominance...one day.

The sight that met him was far from pleasurable.

Narcissa Malfoy, in all her glory, stood straight at the sight of him, letting go of the soft embrace she had wrapped her son in.

"Mr Walker." She nodded once in greeting.

She turned slightly, her pale blue, satin gown moving lazily to gather around her slim form rather flatteringly.

"Lady." He murmured back.

"Come inside, Hadrian...may I call you Hadrian?"She asked innocently, ignoring her son's huff of annoyance.

_No_. "...of course."

"Then you must call me Narcissa." She delivered the politically correct reply smoothly.

_That_ _manipulative, evil_...! "Thank-you, Lady" he spoke softly.

Words were not immediately voiced as her ice-cold eyes continued to stare at him but the impatient Malfoy heir quickly rectified that.

"Mother...is Father home?"

"No, Dragon,"

_Dragon_? Hadrian's eyes widened minutely in sickened amusement at the pet name but the reaction was too subtle for the blonde boy to catch as he threw a threatening look in his direction, daring him to laugh.

"Lucius is at the Ministry, for an all night session. Then he is scheduled to go to France for some business. I expect him to return the day after next."

Draco sighed in disappointment and Hadrian watched as Lady Malfoy's blue eyes softened as she stared at her son before the ice returned with a lightning glance in his direction.

He raised a brow in silent askance, feigning obliviousness.

While more...pronounced a reaction than he would have expected from her, the defensive body language was something he was very familiar with. It was something nearly all purebloods seemed to do when caught experiencing an actual emotion.

"Please, Draco...Hadrian, come." Mrs Malfoy spoke. "I requested for dinner to be served an hour early this evening. I know that two growing young men, such as your-selves, must have their sustenance. From my own days as a student, I recall with perfect clarity that the train's candy cart was hardly enough to satisfy the appetite."

Hadrian ground his teeth together as a small, delicate laugh escaped the woman. All he wanted to do was get to his room, far away from them and read the letter that was burning a hole in his robes! Now she wanted dinner? It was only five!

He cleared his throat softly and adopted a slightly shy expression, "While that's extraordinarily kind of you, Lady Malfoy..."

"Narcissa, dear! After-all, you are family now." The soft trill interrupted his Hadrian's own measured words but there was an undercurrent of steel that did not escape the nicely wrapped order.

"Mother." Draco growled softly, clearly upset with his Mother's welcoming persona.

But Hadrian knew better than the Malfoy heir. Narcissa Malfoy's voice and body language may be summery and sweet, utterly disarming, but it did nothing but put him on edge. She was acting a part. She was acting in such an obvious way that was meant to be caught, designed to be caught.

By him.

Hadrian's spine straightened.

Sky blue eyes were cold and arctic. Openly hostile. There was no doubt in her eyes. She was sending him a message.

His fingers flexed.

This was her home, her family and she was not fooled by him. She knew that he was capable of being a threat and she was telling him that she, at least, was watching him closely.

Hadrian drew in a sharp breath.

"_Narcissa_," He said calmly, "I thank you for the thought but I'm really not hungry. If you would be kind enough to simply direct me to my sleeping quarters, I won't keep you and Draco from your meal."

There is no rational thought progression she could have followed that would lead to their one meeting in the Headmaster's office to generate that level of unequivocal certainty in her gaze. Her reaction didn't follow sense.

"Walker..." Draco frowned, clearly not wishing his classmate to join them but irritated to see his Mother's invitation immediately refused. "You can't be serious."

Hadrian held gazes with the Malfoy Lady and was quick enough to catch a fluttering of doubt in her eyes at his impassive expression. Truthfully, Narcissa's threat could never intimidate him enough for an induced facial reaction. She clearly hadn't told her son of whatever suspicions she was harbouring so there must still be doubts. Add that to the fact that all she could have possibly garnered from their meeting was that he was slightly more intelligent than he appeared...there was no reason to worry.

He turned to his classmate. "I didn't sleep well last night and don't wish to bore you. I really would prefer to just retire for the evening."

Draco huffed in irritation. "You didn't even eat on the train, Walker! And I didn't see you in the Great Hall for breakfast, you must be hungry." His foot was tapping and Hadrian had the impression that the blonde boy was forcing the words out. It wasn't that he was concerned for his wellbeing; rather, he didn't want Hadrian to get his own way while staying in his house.

"Oh, well, then. I insist Hadrian." Narcissa spoke decisively.

It should have closed the matter and the two were already turning to walk into the side door but Hadrian wasn't ready to let this slide. It was small, it was petulant but he wouldn't have them dictating his life. He had always done precisely what he wanted while manipulating it to seem to those around him as if they were calling the shots. Unfortunately, he didn't have the patience right now to smooth this over. He had had a long day and Demetri's letter seemed to be literally gathering weight by the second.

"I apologise, Mrs Malfoy." He said, "I hadn't wished to say this earlier but it seems that your son's concern has forced my hand." Hadrian forced his mouth to form a small smile of surprised gratitude. "I'm not feeling one hundred percent and took a headache potion before I left Hogwarts. It's beginning to wear off and I'd really just like to lie down." Forceful, yet, guaranteed to work.

What was Narcissa going to do? He thought with vague amusement as he watched her eyes fluctuate between aggravation, reluctance and acquiescence. Not allow a sick child to go to bed?

If she was going to put on a mask of cheerful welcome she would have to suffer through its limitations as well as its benefits.

"Very well." She sighed. "Cordy!"

A female house-elf popped in, listening dutifully to the quiet instructions of her Mistress to show Hadrian to his room across the corridor from Draco's.

"Thank-you." He murmured politely, impatient to leave. He would know tomorrow whether Narcissa felt her suspicions of him important enough to tell her son. If it were so, the male pureblood would be simple enough to read and he would deal with it then.

"We have breakfast at seven, Hadrian." Mrs Malfoy's voice was delicate but cold.

"Of course, good-night." He bowed slightly and followed the elf up the main staircase quickly.

Hadrian followed the eagerly jabbering creature in silence, not paying the slightest bit of attention to the ongoing monologue concerning the Manor's history. He was too busy taking in his surroundings with sharp eyes.

He was determined to know the way back to the entrance hall by himself in the morning.

The manor was very large and the architecture, in itself, was part of its defences. The corridors and stairs and rooms had no logical pattern. The old family homes had all been built with a specific want for chaos. To slow down any intruders.

His lips quirked. Paranoid bunch, weren't they?

Ironically, a building constructed to be specifically chaotic inevitably developed a system, a pattern of some kind. Perhaps a long staircase followed by two corridors with one window and then three angled stairs that joined with a circular arc. That was the pattern of Nadine Manor. Of course, it was drastically smaller than the main ancestral home of the Malfoy clan, having only been a dowry gift from the Blacks, but the principle was the same. He would just have to figure it out.

Following an intense sequence of twists and turns, down corridors and up steps, Hadrian stopped abruptly, an innocently agar door catching his undivided attention.

"Mister Hadrian?" The elf squeaked in surprise as she quickly back tracked.

From what he could see, the room was filled with books. It was only an average sized area so Hadrian knew it couldn't possibly be the enormous Malfoy library that Draco had continuously bragged about in their first three years of school. Perhaps...a study?

Knowing that it was a high possibility that the house elf would be asked by its Mistress, whether he had said or asked anything, as it was showing him to his rooms he shifted focus. Hadrian pointed towards the richly coloured rug hanging on the white plaster wall immediately beside the open door housing his real curiousity.

"Do you know anything about that rug?" He tried to show only calm intrigue, so as to limit the importance of the event in the creature's mind if the elf did indeed report back to her Mistress.

Green ears perked up and eyes, previously wide with confusion, smiled with pride. "Oh, yes! That is a favourite of old Master Abraxas that was. He bought it in Spain for a present to the Minister's wife but...he keeps it, I guess. Cordy don't know why." Her ears drooped slightly. "I can ask Master, if you would like me to, Mister Hadrian."

"No, no." He brushed the question aside. "It simply caught my eye." He motioned the elf to move on from the dark medieval figured rug. Pleased to see that the creature looked to have quickly forgotten the detour of topic.

"Young Master's room is across from yours down that hall," Hadrian glanced down the corridor to see Draco's door about five meters from his.

Perfect.

"Yours is in here." The elf pushed open the pine double doors to a large and rich earthy emerald and bronze painted room.

Immediately, Hadrian's eyes swept the space. There was a king sized four poster bed on the far wall, situated neatly between two curtained windows, and a sitting area. A long, mint coloured couch and fluffy arm chair surrounded a gently burning fire off to the right, giving the entire bedroom a soft, yet, crisp look. Hadrian noted the stand alone wardrobe next to what must be the adjoining bathroom with annoyance.

He would have preferred to have an awful set of rooms instead of the tasteful luxury of this one. In his mind it was only right. He was being forced to stay here, prison for the elites, if you will, the decor should reflect that.

"You may leave now." Hadrian dismissed the house-elf.

The loud crack of the creature's compliance didn't immediately settle his nerves. Instead, he waited, completely still. Craning his neck to the side, he listened carefully for any soft noises that would point to a proximity or warning spell being erected directly outside his door. He wouldn't put it past the Malfoy's to use more than a plethora of paintings to keep an eye on his movements.

Sensing and hearing no such measures or anything other than silence, Hadrian straightened his neck and focused his eyes on the painting hanging discreetly above the fireplace. It was a landscape, not a portrait, but still, it would allow the other paintings to peak in on him whenever they felt like, or were ordered to by their master's.

In the silence, still standing but three paces into his living quarters, Hadrian let his wand slide down the sleeve of his robe, grasping it lightly. His eyes watched for any flicker of movement within the canvas as he raised his wand and wordlessly flicked the wood in a short, jerky motion. The painting's frame flickered with a light blue colour that would tell Hadrian if another portrait was entering the field.

He smirked.

It was incredible how many useful spells there were in household cleaning manuals. This particular one was meant to be used to analyse how much dust was covering the paint. A spell designed for the lazy pureblood to find out if the whole house needed a more vigorous cleaning because the house-elves were slacking off.

Hadrian chuckled as he made his way over to the bed, pulling out his shrunken school trunk as he went.

He'd simply tweaked the spell to stay active instead of dissipating and to have the capability to recognise movement. While he now knew that the painting was absent of all but the smallest dust particles, as you would expect in Malfoy manor, it didn't take away from the fact that what had initially been a decidedly useless piece of magic was now priceless.

Hadrian enlarged his trunk before turning to look at the room in its full entirety. He'd already checked for listening charms and was pleased to find none. If Mrs Malfoy hadn't put any kind of spying spell-work through his room, that he could detect, and he was confident that none would have escaped his detailed appraisal, she mustn't know anything concrete. Of course, there was the theory that she didn't bother because she believed him capable of identifying beyond NEWT level charms but Hadrian found that highly unlikely. There was nothing that she could possibly know that would lead her to such an outrageous conclusion.

The moment Hadrian believed the room was as secure and private as it could be within Malfoy Manor; he pulled the crumpled letter from his breast pocket and broke the black wax Cartus family crest, sealing shut the expensive parchment.

_Hadrian, my friend,_

_I went to Nadine Manor, as you requested I did. As you had anticipated, my previous access through the wards had been revoked. I used the vial of blood which you sent me, as you indicated for me to do if such an event occurred. _

_The wards would not let me through, Hadrian. Even with your blood._

_...As far as I can suggest, it seems as though Madame Nadine has closed the property to all but herself. I wasn't able to gain access to the sight in order to ascertain her health or state as you had asked me to do. _

_I am sorry._

_The only way in which you are going to get in to that house, Hadrian, would be to someway, tear those wards down. The security is too tight. There is no loophole that I could detect which one might be able to slip through. _

_Perhaps...Hadrian, perhaps you should think of consulting Julian on the matter. You know as well as I that his Uncle is a Ward Master. He may be able to help you._

_Stay safe,_

_Demetri _

Hadrian scrunched the letter tightly within his fist, eyes glaring blackly at the dark wood floor.

What was Raven playing at? Was she trying to drive him crazy with worry?

He had been sure, that in the likely occasion that the Russian's access had been barred from the house that his blood would be enough to let the man through so that he could check on Raven.

He pointed his wand toward the ball of paper he had thrown away and watched blankly as it burned.

'Contact Julian.'

Hadrian's lips twisted into a mocking smile.

He had the displeasure of meeting Julian's uncle, the supposed 'Ward Master' a year ago. The man had no right going around announcing himself as such. The man was no Ward Master. He was the most senior and skilled curse breaker employed by Gringotts in Eastern Europe and he had possessed a mastery in Ancient Runes. He was a highly sought after specialist, to be sure.

But he wasn't a Ward Master.

Hadrian scoffed.

A Ward Master was capable of _devastation_.

They could analyse and unravel spells as quickly as they were being fired at them. Their work wasn't simply defences around buildings. A true Ward Master had to know Dark Blood Magics. Where a group of five wizards and witches would be needed to erect a powerful ward, a master of the art knew the magic so intensely that all he needed was his own magical core _and_ it would be done in a fraction of the time.

The difference between a highly skilled specialist and a master couldn't have been larger.

It irked him something fierce to know that Julian's uncle was masquerading as such.

His mind returned to Raven as Demetri's words floated through his mind. If she had the capability to keep such a rigid control over the Manor's wards, which were drawing the extra power of her requests directly from her magical core, Raven's condition couldn't be dire.

In which case...Hadrian tensed and the grip on his wand slipped...she must simply not wish to speak to him.

His emotions cooled significantly and his eyes grew icy at the painful realisation.

His Mother had broken off all communication.

Here he was, trying his damndest to fend off the Dark Lord's parasitic spell, looking down the accelerating tunnel of having no other option but to take a third dose of the Greccas Trillium potion...and she was...

Hadrian closed his eyes tightly.

Fine.

He had humiliated himself enough attempting to get in contact with her, worrying if she were alright.

He wouldn't allow and quite honestly, couldn't afford; to have Raven keep dominating his thoughts.

Hadrian needed to find an answer which was better than the vials of neon green potion lying deep within his school trunk.

Memory of that subtly hidden room filled to the brim with countless volumes flashed across his mind's eyes.

He would need to be careful.

The Malfoy Lord wouldn't be in the Manor until the day after next and who knew who might accompany him on his trip home.

Hadrian's eyes narrowed in thought.

The Dark Lord, he was sure, would be wondering how he had held out against the pain of the spell for this long. If he was correct, Lord Voldemort would have a matching scar on the palm of his own hand, where his blood had been used to activate the spell. This type of link was intrinsically dark in nature and blood was what made it binding.

Old spell-work, such as this, was unrefined, organic, _raw_.

The archaic magic's worked in basic orders.

Slave, Partner, Mentor...

It was up to the magic user who instigated the spell to direct its purpose. A slave bond could be sexual, menial labour, a magical battery, for Merlin's sake...! The ways in which the user could manipulate the spell to form a purpose and outcome, were endless. But they still came under one of those basic orders. It was the spell's personality.

The loss of control terrified him.

Hadrian had no intention of ever finding out what the purpose of such a connection was for.

Even if the Malfoy patriarch had been home, and consequently more sensitive to any changes or alterations he made to any wards surrounding restriction to books, he couldn't have waited.

Hadrian glanced behind him, looking out the window at the steadily darkening sky. It would be hours before he could be certain the manor's occupants were asleep and the wait was going to be excruciating.

Eyes widening, the soft bell in the back of his mind had Hadrian moving swiftly. He leaning back on the bed and threw an arm over his eyes, letting his legs dangle limply. Slowing his breathing so that his chest rose slowly, Hadrian made a picture perfect example of a fast asleep teenage boy too lazy and exhausted to even change and get beneath the bed covers before collapsing onto the bed.

He kept his body absolutely still and made certain that his simulated deep sleep breaths never paused in their measured rhythm.

"...ly the boy can't be sleeping!" Hadrian had to strain to hear the barely audible whispers of the spying portraits, "He's supposed to still be in Hogwarts, he's not on the verge of death! Who goes to bed before six in the evening?"

"Keep your voice down!" A raspy male voice ordered sharply.

"The Mudblood can't possibly hear me, Trius." A young, female voice sneered but Hadrian noted that she did indeed quieten her volume despite the words.

"_This_ is the urchin Narcissa has volunteered to house? What possessed her? He looks like a recipe for disgrace!"

Beneath the arm covering his face, the corners of Hadrian's eyes crinkled in annoyance. The painting's were uttering the same words he had heard whispered and shouted countless times within the halls of the school castle.

"Well..."Hadrian strained to hear the woman's mumbled words, "...as I heard it, Lazarus told Mimi, who heard from the cherub on the five floor South wing, that _Helios_ saw Narcissa come back into the Manor a few days ago. He managed to catch some of her words because she was muttering so angrily. Apparently! The _Dark Lord_ doesn't want, and in fact _ordered_, that the boy should not come to harm during his stay! And...!"

Hadrian inhaled sharply through his nose, immediately silencing the gossiping pair. Heart hammering in his ears, Hadrian desperately tried to salvage the situation. Letting the indrawn air escape through his mouth in an awkward grunt he worked to level out his breathing once again. The action decidedly more difficult this time round.

The _Dark Lord_ was somehow involved in this! Was _Voldemort_ the motivation Narcissa Malfoy had to so persistently argue and demand the rights to his guardianship? Was that _bastard _the reason he was stuck here?

"...do...think...udblood...king...?"

Hadrian kept a hold of his temper as his thoughts raced, quickly putting the puzzle together.

There was some more whispering that he didn't have a hope of making out but he was relieved when the mole's decided to depart, no doubt to talk freely in a more secure part of the Manor.

As soon as his tweaked detection charm informed him of their complete absence, Hadrian lifted his forearm from his eyes and glared balefully up at the ceiling.

_That manipulative_ _**bastard**_!

...


	15. Race Against Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Hadrian scrubbed his eyes furiously as he walked down the empty hallway on his way to breakfast.

He had spent the last two nights searching through books with no results. He'd found plenty of interesting information from volumes he knew to be balancing on the precipice between legal and illicit, but nothing that would help him.

He'd only slept for three hours during his last night at Hogwarts and these past two sleepless nights were really starting to wear on him.

"Good Morning, Hadrian." Lady Malfoy's greeting was quiet as he walked through the doors to the dining room, four minutes before seven.

"Morning." He nodded back.

Hadrian noted, with disinterest, that Draco had yet to appear. Continuing further into the room he pulled out the seat that had been assigned to him yesterday morning.

"I trust you slept well?"

Ah, polite conversation. Hadrian glanced at the open doors suddenly wishing for the Malfoy heir's presence.

"Yes." He murmured back, reaching for the tea pot.

He vaguely remembered what sleeping felt like.

"_Hadrian_."

The sharp call of his name had him glancing up at the witch in bewilderment. What could he have possibly done wrong _now_?

Her mouth was pinched tightly and her back was ram-rode straight in the velvet seated chair. "I do not know what manners you grew up with, Hadrian," His mood darkened at the obvious insult. "In my house, we do not serve ourselves until all those who are eating are present."She informed, her eyes flashing. "Understood?"

Hadrian breathed out harshly through a disbelieving laugh. Keeping his eyes locked with her challenging ice blue, he slowly lowered the silver teapot back onto the table.

He smiled thinly. "Perfectly."

"Hello, Mother!"

Hadrian didn't bother following the woman's distracted gaze as Draco strode confidently into the room.

He briefly entertained the idea of pouring himself that cup of tea _now_, before the blonde had taken a seat. _Technically_, all those who were eating were now present, he internalised bitterly. It was her own fault that she had left room to wriggle within her words. But he didn't. No use antagonising Narcissa over something so trivial. Especially, as Hadrian knew she hadn't told her son her suspicions about him. He would merely be giving her reservations fuel to burn.

His classmate threw him a displeased look as he took his own seat beside him.

"Mother, Blaise owled me this morning." Draco leaned forward in his seat as Narcissa nodded her head to show she was listening. "Everyone's meeting in Diagon Alley at ten, to go look at the new broomstick. You know, the one that's just been released."

Hadrian withheld a snort. _This_ is what the Slytherin's did in their holidays? Caught up like seventy year old women to gossip?

That explained a lot.

"And who is everyone, Draco?" Lady Malfoy asked softly, but Hadrian could tell by the humouring expression on her face that she had already decided to allow her son to go.

"Well..."

Hadrian let his mind float away from the deliriously boring conversation to his fruitless search. Lucius Malfoy was scheduled to arrive at the Manor today and he had been extra careful in reapplying the wards around the study earlier this morning. He had been startled, at first, to find wards of only moderate strength protecting the books. He had been sure that he had somehow missed something but quickly reasoned that the conspicuous location was a larger defence than almost any magical protection.

The sound of his name drew his attention quite effectively.

"...Yes, alright Dragon. Just be sure to be home for dinner. No doubt, your Father will have arrived back by then. You and Hadrian should probably be leaving by nine fourty five to ensure a timely arrival."

His head snapped around, eyes wide. Did she just say...?

"Mother!" Draco's voice had adopted a very unflattering squawk of outrage and his cheeks flushed with colour. "I'm not bringing Walker!"

Hadrian quickly set down his lukewarm tea and nodded his full agreement, cursing internally. He couldn't think of a worse way to spend most of his day! Flittering from shop to shop with his Slytherin classmates...he'd likely kill them after hours of uninterrupted exposure!

"Draconis Lucius Malfoy." Mrs Malfoy's wintry caution cowed her son instantly.

Hadrian bit his lip harshly. Was the idiot completely spineless? He refilled his nearly empty tea cup, needing something to distract him from wanting to glare at the blonde with lethal distain.

"Hadrian is _our_ responsibility, _your responsibility_. You shall indeed..."

"Excuse me," He cut in softly.

Narcissa seemed to draw back into herself before turning to face him without emotion, while Draco simply tensed in anger.

"I don't think I was invited. I would feel awfully intrusive and rude accompanying Draco." It would indeed be rude to stain the popular alley with the hard to remove colour of his housemate's blood.

The Malfoy heir sent his Mother a look that clearly said, 'see!' before a frown wrinkled his brow and he spun around to look at his unwanted guest.

"Wait..." He laughed in disbelief, "You don't want to go?" His eyes were mocking.

Clearly the thought of the Slytherin outcast not actually wishing to associate with his friends and himself had never crossed his mind. Faced with the proof of Hadrian's deadpan face, it was amusing watching the boy try to grabble with, what he believed, to be an impossible notion.

"I really would prefer to just stay here." He confessed with a carefully calculated sheepish grin. This particular degree of shyness crossed with clumsy humour, he had found, disarmed almost everyone.

"I'm afraid that just isn't possible, Hadrian."

It appeared that Narcissa was not, 'almost everyone.' _Why_ wasn't he surprised?

"I need to leave the Manor for the day to call on some acquaintances and I don't want you being here all by yourself. What if something happened to you? There wouldn't be anyone here to help."Lady Malfoy said calmly.

_Translation_? What if he stuck his nose somewhere it wasn't wanted while nobody was here to monitor his movements? _That's_ what she meant.

Absently, Hadrian wondered if these unnamed acquaintances of hers were the escaped convicts of Azkaban, Bellatrix Le'Strange, in particular. The brief musing was quickly pushed to the back of his mind.

"There are the house-elves, Madame." He pointed out softly, knowing full-well that the refusal to use her first name would irritate her.

The witch had used his first name every chance she had in the past two days. As if it symbolised some invisible power she had over him.

She smiled back tightly. "Still, I would feel far more comfortable if you accompanied Draco and his friends."

He was sure she would.

"What are the others going to say if I just turn up with Walker, Mother?" Draco finally piped in, his reasoning so pathetic Hadrian wished he hadn't opened his mouth at all.

It was a lost cause. Nothing they could possibly say would sway her. The fact was, she needed to leave the Manor and didn't want Hadrian left to his own devices.

...Unless...his neck twitched in thought.

"Are we to be back for Lunch, Mrs Malfoy?" He questioned innocently. The woman had been pedantic about all meals being eaten together since his skipping dinner that first night. There were to be no more exceptions.

Hadrian watched as her lips tightened even further, "No. Just dinner." Her tone was clipped and cold.

He smiled crookedly. "Alright."

...

"Merlin, Walker. So help me, if you embarrass me in any way...!" The Malfoy heir let the threat hang as he pushed Hadrian's soot covered body off his own and stalked through the crowded Leaky Cauldron.

"Malfoy, wait!" He called out, getting to his feet swiftly and chasing after the blonde.

The pureblood was in the process of tapping the bricks in the familiar sequence that opened the magical portal to Diagon Alley.

"Malfoy!"

Hadrian rolled his eyes at the juvenile behaviour of his companion as he continued forward, acting as though he couldn't hear him.

Having had quite enough, Hadrian tilted the wand within his sleeve at a cane basket hanging from one of the shop fronts on Malfoy's path. With an audible snap, the thick rope broke and the large basket fell directly in front of the dark heir, halting his steps long enough for Hadrian to catch up.

It was a pity that the blonde's progress had slowed at the last instant, attention caught on a passing shop window. The cane basket would have fallen directly on top of him, otherwise.

"Malfoy,"

"What?" The boy swung round angrily and fixed him with a glare. "What could you possibly have to say, Walker? Isn't it enough that you're barging in on my time with my friends, uninvited! What?"

Hadrian didn't let his face show how unimpressed with the boy's uncouth behaviour he was. Instead, he let his eyes conveniently drift behind Draco.

Malfoy looked over his shoulder at what had caught his attention and his cheeks abruptly coloured. Curious bystanders were openly staring at the spectacle the pair was making of themselves in confusion.

Before he had a chance to speak, Hadrian cut in. "I need to get some school supplies, Malfoy. I know that you don't wish for my company," And he could think of _several_ torture curses he would rather suffer through than be in the Slytherin's presence. "So, I'm going to make myself scarce until we need to floo back to Malfoy Manor."

Mercury eyes narrowed. "No..." He smirked. It was the first Slytherin expression that he had seen on the boy's face all morning. "I have a better idea."

Hadrian raised his eyebrow.

"You will get whatever you need to get within three hours and then come back here. The others and I will be waiting and you can spend the rest of the day carrying our bags, with no magical help, being absolutely silent." Malfoy took a step closer to him, invading his space. "I don't want to know that you're there. You will act as our personal house-elf, okay? You jump, when I say jump." A sneer painted his lips and Hadrian had to forcibly move his eyes away from him. Not trusting his optical glamour to hold due to the level of rage storming through him.

"Am I clear, Walker?" He taunted. "It's either that, or you can put on your tea cosy right now. Your choice."

"...Three hours, Malfoy." He echoed, before abruptly turning and walking back the way they'd come.

As soon as he felt the Malfoy heir's eyes leave his back, he quickened his pace and allowed a dark scowl to form across his features.

They had left the manor an hour later than Lady Malfoy had patronisingly advised, so it was currently eleven.

Draco would expect him to be out the front of the wizarding pet shop at two.

They wouldn't start looking for him seriously until three, maybe three thirty.

Hadrian estimated that he had five hours until Lady Malfoy was made aware of his disappearance at four. She would likely inform her husband of his absence and they would alert their network.

They would have people and creatures attempting to locate him from four fifteen until seven; which was when dinner started.

Eight hours. He had eight hours.

If the Dark Lord was indeed behind his change of guardian, green grew brighter as a heart stopping glare sharpened his eyes. As Hadrian _knew_ he was...

Hadrian would have until dinner, at the very earliest, before the man was told, he suspected. The Malfoy's wouldn't be eager to tell their master. They would wait and give their web of contacts a chance to locate him.

After all, he was certain 'missing' qualified as 'harm'. He sneered spitefully.

He had just short of eight hours.

Exiting the pub, Hadrian turned sharply down the side-alley.

That way, Lord Voldemort need never know of his spontaneous excursion. He doubted his guardians would tell the Dark Lord after he returned. They would, undoubtedly, wish to keep their security blunder under wraps, so as to avoid any possible punishment.

His lip lifted in a snarl.

The Slytherin five would just have to suffer through their shopping hassles without him.

Hadrian spun on his heel and disapparated with a loud crack. Too angry to exert the effort to muffle the noise.

Eight hours.

...

"Goodness, I'm parched!" Pansy exclaimed and Draco threw her an exasperated look.

"I wouldn't mind a drink myself." Blaise agreed.

"Let's stop at the small bistro up ahead, I heard it's fantastic." Daphne pointed.

"Is it new?" Draco asked in surprise, not recognising the crimson and cream coloured awnings or English box palms decorating the front. Diagon Alley was historic. It was very unusual for a new shop to open. Normally the businesses were passed down through families. Like Ollivander's, his family had owned that building for centuries.

"Mmhm," Daphne murmured, her eyes excited to try something new. "Astoria and her friends came here yesterday. It opened a couple weeks after Hogwarts started. Apparently, it's really popular!"

"Alright, come on!" Theodore beckoned them with a wave of his hand.

"Oh, no." The irritated groan caught all of their attention, Draco looking up towards the voice standing above their table. "What are you lot doing here?"

"Potter!" Blaise spat.

"You work here, Potter?" Daphne giggled in ridicule and Draco's own mouth smirked as he caught sight of the small, white apron tied around the Gryffindor's waist.

"Just helping out." He said shortly. "Are you going to order, or not?" he demanded.

"You know, Potter, menial labour suits you. It's done wonders for your complexion. I haven't seen your hair this unbearable a colour in years!" Malfoy grinned, enjoying the other's obvious anger.

If only Walker's reactions were so satisfying.

"Five butterbeers." He ordered.

"And make it snappy!" Theo called after the tall saviour.

"I wonder who he's helping out?" Pansy wondered out loud.s

They quickly received an answer as Remus Lupin walked out of the storeroom behind the counter to accept payment from a young couple with a broad smile.

"Remind me never to come here again." Blaise said with a grimace.

A girl, unknown to them, came back with their drinks and Draco shared a grin with his friends. It was obvious Potter had asked her to step in and waitress their table.

They'd been shopping for two hours now, just wandering from shop to shop, picking out Christmas gifts and other items for themselves that they deemed essential. Each of the five had access to their family's vault at Gringotts and used it to their best advantage.

"So, are you going to get a Christmas present for Walker like your Mother told you to Draco?" Daphne's question came from nowhere and he had to fight in order to control his gobsmacked expression.

"No." He snapped, wanting the subject closed. He didn't want to speak about Walker.

He'd told the others in as few words as possible that they would be meeting up with Walker at one, outside the pet shop, and to not be afraid of putting him in his place if he so much as blew his nose. They'd taken the less than subtle hint and not brought up the Malfoy's new ward again. Until now.

"Why did you give him three hours by himself? Wouldn't it just be easier if he stuck with us the whole time or himself for the entire day?" Theo asked pointedly.

Draco sighed and put his glass of warm drink onto the wooden table in front of him.

"Mother told me explicitly not to let Walker out of my sight. I guess she's worried about how it would look if Walker was seen wandering about, all alone." He reasoned in a careless manner, not particularly caring either way. "I just needed a break from him! He's driving me insane with his pathetic eyes and pathetic face. I can't believe we ever thought there might be something remotely interesting about him!" Draco growled lowly.

When no comments came, he raised his angry mercury eyes to see his four friends exchanging meaningful glances.

"What?" He demanded hotly. "You don't agree? Walker isn't the most irritating bore and total moron on the planet?"

Blaise snorted in amusement, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Look at you, Draco. I thought I was supposed to be the hot-head? The one blinded by my more negative emotions?" He drawled with a grin but his eyes did hold a hint of concern.

Pansy nodded seriously, "You're letting what happened with the guardianship distract you, Draco."

"Don't you remember what you told us on the train, on the way to Hogwarts, at the beginning of the year? Is any of that still registering with you? You said Walker was an enigma. We were all going to try and figure him out this term." Theo spoke beseechingly but Draco couldn't see it. He was beyond whatever childish notions of grandeur they had had at the beginning of the school year.

"That's because there is _nothing_ to find! We were wrong!" He insisted heatedly.

"So the Dark Lord was wrong?" Daphne's soft words froze him. His thoughts ground to a halt and he looked up into her intense eyes. "I have been trying to make you see sense for weeks now, Draco. " She breathed out in exasperation. "You are not looking at Walker through a clear head. He's currently off somewhere in Diagon Alley doing, who knows what? If he's buying Christmas gifts, who are they for? Who does he consider his loved ones? Will he send a letter to someone now that he's outside your Manor's wards? Is he smart enough to use the communal owl post office? Will he use the owl that we saw on the train that none of us even knew he owned?" She whispered harshly.

Draco shook his head from side to side trying to reason with himself.

"He _killed_ a man in front of us, Draco!"

Her voice was barely audible but no less passionate and he finally allowed her words to register with his cool logic. His reason and level head, which had been utterly buried in the past weeks.

"He is friends with powerful wizards and witches. _Nobody_ knows anything of detail from his past. _Nobody_. That is _not_ the background of an irritating bore and the world's most outstanding moron!" Daphne glared at her friend, sparks shooting from her eyes.

"And _you_ sent him off by himself...to do whatever the hell he likes! With _no one_ the wiser...Well done, Draco. _Well done_." The Greengrass heir leaned back in her seat, her tone coated with infuriated sarcasm.

He tried to swallow past the nervous weight in his chest, only succeeding on the second attempt.

"...One hour." He murmured.

Looking outside at the gently falling snow, Draco was suddenly wishing for time to pass far more quickly than he had only moments before. His Mother's serious words, telling him to keep Walker close to him, always in his sight, reverberated loudly in him mind.

"One hour." His repeated whisper was so soft his friends didn't have a hope of catching the words.

None of them noticed the amber eyes watching them with surprised interest, too caught up in their own thoughts.

...

"Yes, of course dear." Narcissa patted Mrs Zabini's hand sympathetically as her blue eyes wandered to the antique mantle clock to check the time.

She had waited for the two boys to leave the manor before she began her series of errands, hurrying anxiously, in order to have more time to spend with her recovering sister. Her son's dawdling had irritated and placed her severely behind schedule. Nevertheless, Narcissa hadn't wanted to risk the chance that Draco might simply leave Walker behind, without a further care, to wander the estate unsupervised.

She had spent the time writing letters to their various businesses and her acceptance to a number of functions, including a Ministry hosted one, as well as a series of declines to those who were too far beneath her station to be seen in association with.

These last two day's had unnerved her. Walker was...odd. Yesterday evening she had even considered the possibility of him suffering from multiple personality disorder. It would explain his bouts of challenge and the frustration she had seldom caught in his gaze when he hadn't thought she was looking, and she had been looking, very hard.

The clock rang once for the half hour and her lips smiled in pleasure, carefully keeping her relief hidden from her friend.

It was one thirty.

And this was Narcissa's last stop before she could finally go visit Bellatrix at the Dark Lord's home.

"Oh!...Narcissa...!"The black haired, petite woman blew her nose with the white cotton handkerchief she had conjured for herself, water running freely down her cheeks. "I really do think Casius...!" She hiccupped through her husband's name in misery. "Is, is...having an affair!" She wailed.

Among their circles the Zabini Lord's adulterous expeditions was a well known fact. His wife had just never found out before.

"Calm yourself, calm." Narcissa coaxed, "I am sure that this is nothing more than your imagination fuelled by a fear every married couple faces." She insisted gently, her blue eyes warm with support and comfort.

Casius did indeed love his wife; she knew that. The man just lacked even the smallest measure of self control.

"H-have you ever thought...Lucius may have..." The Zabini Lady trailed off as the blonde's spine straightened a little but her expression relaxed quickly.

Of course not. The Malfoy Lord wouldn't dare.

"_Naturally, dear_." She smiled soothingly.

Nothing on this Earth would save Lucius Abraxas Malfoy from her wrath, if her husband had ever dared cheat on her.

"I'm sorry," Another hiccup. "For keeping you so long, Narcissa." She whispered in regret.

"Nonsense." She waved the apology aside dismissively. "I had just recently finished visiting the family's accountants when your message reached me. I needed to sign some papers that required both my husband's and my signatures." She explained.

"How are you getting on with your new ward, my friend?" The attractive, black-haired witch frowned in concern.

Her neck jerked at the mention of the boy. "It's an adjustment." Her tone was tight as she stood from the French lounge seat beneath the window. "I really must be going."

"Oh! Yes..." The small woman stood and walked her to the fireplace. "I can not hope to express my gratitude, thank-you for alleviating my suspicions, Narcissa." Her dark eyes were once again happy and content.

She made a mental note to speak with Casius.

"It was my pleasure, Katherine. I shall see you soon."

If Zabini wouldn't voluntarily break things off with the African witch ten eyes his junior, she had more than enough blackmail material that would quickly change the wizards mind.

Narcissa spoke her destination and disappeared in a billow of fire and smoke.

...

Dull green eyes watched the brightly shining street with keen observance. He was in a particularly exclusive shopping strand in Berlin, Germany. Everything around him reeked of quality and affluence. The people, the clothes, the shops, the food...this was a place for the wealthy elite.

"Hey! You there!" Hadrian turned towards the source of the shout, thanking the translations spells Raven had forced him to learn some years ago. They were incredibly convenient. "We don't want any loitering round here."

The man was in his late twenty's and judging by the logo on his crimson shirt, a junior server of the magical jewellery store he was silently leaning against.

"Do you know where I might be able to find Mademoiselle Beaumont? It's important that I find her. I had heard that she frequents this strand often, and is, in fact, a special client of this boutique." Hadrian asked politely.

The attractive young shop assistant scoffed and assumed an even more arrogant and conceited expression.

"Mademoiselle Beaumont?" He sneered the name in mocking clarification.

Hadrian let it float over him, not affected in the least by the man's attitude. Instead, he just nodded, "That's correct."

"Who's asking?" He crossed his arms and went through the polite motions tauntingly.

Hadrian narrowed his eyes. He wouldn't be giving his name out. "A friend." He answered lowly.

His words seemed to annoy the man instead of amuse him as they had before.

"A friend?" He laughed in disbelief. "You?" His eyes raked over his short, weak frame, scuffed shoes and average woollen robes with distain. "Mademoiselle Beaumont is the heiress to the Beaumont clan, boy. She is lauded as one of the most beautiful woman in Europe; she has money coming out her ears and hundreds of acquaintances vying for her attention! Stop wasting my time."He spat. "And disappear, you're bothering the customers."

As the man turned away Hadrian soft voice caught him.

"You're not entirely accurate, you know."

"Go away!"

Hadrian ignored him, "She doesn't have mountains of money." His tone was conversational but his attention was on the slowly approaching magic he could feel coming towards him. "Her family is relatively wealthy but nothing compared to the gold residing in any old pureblood family's bank vault." Hadrian straightened from his slouched position to face the man head on. "I wonder... with the way you talk about her. You are blatantly adoring, but your eyes are bitter..." Hadrian smirked. "How long ago did you finally work up the courage to confess your feelings to her, shop boy? Only to have her throw your declaration back at you in disgust?"

The junior store clerk's face was frozen in shocked look. Hadrian's self-assured words had been stunningly accurate and Simon burned with the remembered humiliation.

"You little...!" The twenty seven year old snarled furiously and advanced forward, completely forgetting that he was in a very public place, interested solely, in cursing the miscreant opposite him into oblivion.

Hadrian didn't move an inch. Unconcerned.

Simon jerked his wand above his head, his mouth forming the words of a painful spell. Bringing his wand down in a violent swish, he could visualise the coloured light leaving the wood...

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." A nervous voice cautioned.

Simon, the shop assistant, stared at the hand wrapped tightly around his descending wand in confusion. Whoever had interrupted had stopped his spell! He swung angry eyes around to lambast the individual.

It was a middle aged, roe tonne man with a glaring bald spot, frowning up at him in displeasure.

"What the hell, do you think you're doing? Let go! Le...!" Demanding shrills abruptly cut off as Hadrian's powerful silencing spell settled over him.

Hadrian only lowered his wand after casting a notice-me-not charm bubble around them.

"You kept me waiting." Hadrian lifted dark eyes and pinned the man with a cool stare.

The plump wizard shifted uncomfortably.

"I wasn't certain that it was me you wanted to speak with." He said slowly.

Hadrian raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "I have been standing here for twenty minutes." His tone was silky.

He had been apparating through Europe for the past three hours trying to find the man in front of him.

"I don't know where she is!" The wizard suddenly exclaimed. "She just disappeared a week ago after a function at her family's residence and nobody's seen her since!"

Hadrian paused to look at the man. He was telling the truth but there was still a nervous tick in his jaw. "What aren't you telling me, Fredrick?" Hadrian questioned softly, his eyes alight with threat as he advanced forward slowly. "You have been her tutor since she was eleven. You always know where she is."

Simon watched the proceedings through wide eyes, unable to comprehend the significance of the loiterer's abrupt change in character. There was something...strange about the small boy, but he couldn't put his finger on in.

The man straightened. "I can't help you." He declared boldly.

Hadrian smirked.

"You will one way or the other, Fredrick."His eyes narrowed. "I'm running quite short on time and my patience right now isn't high."

Malfoy and the other four Slytherins should all be arriving at the pet shop in Diagon Alley at this very moment, in fact.

At the dark haired boy's threat, the meaty hands wrapped around Simon's wand and pushing down on his shoulder loosened. Not knowing exactly what he had stumbled into but certain that he wanted no part of it, he seized the opportunity and wrenched free of the restraining body. Spinning, Simon fired a wordless spell at the boy who had hit him with the silencing charm only minutes earlier.

He bit his lip. Common sense was telling him that he should have used the time to attack the middle aged wizard behind him. The one, who had previously restrained him and was in a position to do so again. Even so...he couldn't over-ride his screaming instincts. The one's telling him that the chameleon boy, directly opposite, was immeasurably more dangerous.

With a silent bark of triumph and a wide grin, Simon watched, through eager eyes, as his spell arched through the air in green eyes' direction.

Hadrian's wand snapped up, "Protego!"

The attacking curse reflected off his shimmering blue shield, back towards its original caster.

Hadrian watched, as the store assistant dropped his wand with a pained cry and fell to his knees, clutching at the burnt skin of his face.

Hadrian glided forward.

His eyes cut into Fredrick with sharp intensity. "Stay." He ordered. "I _will_ get what I came for. You _will_ tell me everything I want to know."

Hadrian payed no more concentration than was necessary to the fat scum of a wizard that scrambled away from both of them, in fright.

The balding man was intelligent enough not to test his patience and try to escape the privacy shield.

Hadrian looked down at the pitiful heap below him in thought.

He crouched down and met the conceited shop assistant's hateful glare with a passive expression.

He leaned close, enjoying the other's shivers of fearful confusion. "That was _not_ a very nice spell." Hadrian face may have been blank but his eyes gleamed maliciously in the darkening light.

The young man whimpered pathetically at his feet.

...

Draco tried to control his racing heart as he stared at the gently falling snow.

It was two thirty.

Walker should have met them outside the pet shop at two.

Again, his mind went over it.

He had left Walker at eleven. Eleven plus three hours was...two.

It was two thirty.

Draco clenched his fists.

At a quarter past two, after fifteen tense minutes of waiting, he had sent each one of his friends off in different directions to search the alley for their classmate.

The Malfoy heir had stayed at the previously agreed upon location, hoping that Walker would appear with a heaving chest, gasping for air because he had sprinted all the way here after losing track of the time. His stupid, empty eyes would apologise profusely, sorry if he had worried Draco with his absence. He would scoff at the mere words and bark at the boy to pick up all their shopping bags. The same bags laying discarded and un-shrunk at his feet.

Eleven plus one hundred and eighty minutes was...two.

The cold that shouldn't have affected him through his elegant, warm clothes began to seep into his belly.

It was two thirty.

It was two...

"Blaise!" He gasped out in hope, as his male friend appeared in front of him covered in snowflakes. "Did you...?" His eager question trailed off as the Zabini heir shook his head.

Blaise stepped beside him and stuck his cold hands in his pockets.

"Shit!" Draco cursed under his breath before the pureblood next to his elbowed him in the ribs painfully.

"Daphne and Theo." Blaise's words were unnecessary. His mercury eyes had already spotted the two.

There was no third.

That ice in his stomach was beginning to crawl up his chest as his anxiety increased exponentially.

What were the chances that Walker was actually even _in_ Diagon Alley? His friends had scoured the area and he knew that they had been thorough. A sense of unexplainable dread had pierced them all as the minutes had ticked by and Hadrian didn't show up.

They had arrived at the pet shop five minutes early. Draco hadn't been able to relax at all after their drink stop.

He knew that the tension within him wouldn't abate until Walker was finally within his sights.

It was two fourty.

No one said a word. All four pair of eyes were watching the snow in front of them. The tiny flakes fell in hypnotic quiet. Never ending.

"_Keep Hadrian close to you Draco. Make sure he is always within your sights. Don't let him wander." _

There had been a serious intensity in his Mother's cold eyes when she had whispered those words in his ear, this morning. She had drawn him into a hug and kissed his cheek goodbye but her eyes had been serious.

Two fourty five.

"Should we go see if Pansy is okay? She's taken a lot longer than any of us did." Theo asked stiffly, hyper-aware of how tense everyone felt.

"Maybe," Draco growled out, "she's being more meticulous than any of you were." He accused.

"Hey!" Blaise glared. "This is not our fault, Malfoy. You're the one who let him go off in the first place!"

Draco glowered out at the still falling snow. He knew Blaise was right. The panic beginning to get the better of him knew exactly how much this was a problem entirely of his own making.

Theo stepped forward. "Well, I'm going to go look for her."

"No need." Daphne murmured quietly.

The blonde girl emerged slowly from the white snow with a disheartened expression and no Walker.

Draco stopped breathing for a second, heart pounding loudly in his ears.

"Where is he?" he whispered hollowly, eyes wide with shock.

Millions of repercussions for his stupid actions began crashing down around him.

...

Narcissa's brow wrinkled.

She had been unable to enter the Dark Lord's home when she had finally managed to transport herself to the location, which was odd.

Most of the derelict dwelling was barred for any but the Dark Lord to enter. However, the man had essentially given the Eastern wing to his Death Eaters. It was there that the individuals that were being hunted by the Ministry lived.

Gaining access to that wing was relatively straightforward, if you knew what you were doing. It had been designed and protected with the idea of a come and go place in mind. A dangerously warded area, to be sure, but one she had often travelled and, therefore, learned to navigate.

Narcissa had left the Zabini Manor swiftly, keen to see Bellatrix. With the addition to her household she hadn't been able to visit her since Hogwart's term had ended.

Annoyed that she had seemingly wasted her time, Narcissa stepped out of the fireplace and onto the pristine white and marble floors of Malfoy Manor.

She sighed, but resolved not to let it bother her.

"Tempus."

It was three in the evening.

Shaking off her unexplainable restlessness, she continued forward. The Lady Malfoy had plenty to do in order to get everything ready for tonight. If nothing else, the activity would take her mind off her unease until her son and Walker returned.

Narcissa hadn't taken more than five steps when an overwhelmingly dark and potent aura swept over her, freezing the witch in place.

The Dark Lord was here.

Her icy eyes instantly narrowed into thoughtful slits as her mind raced.

Lucius had said they wouldn't return from Russia until seven. She may have told Draco that his Father was in France but it hadn't been true. She simply felt too suspicious and protective of her small family unit to voice her husband's genuine location while Hadrian Walker had been there listening. On later thought, Narcissa decided that it was better that her son didn't know any details regarding Lucius's work for the Dark, anyway.

All she knew was that the Dark Lord had taken Lucius and her brother-in-law with him to the South of Russia and that the trip was meant to last a full day.

What were they doing back so early?

Had it not gone well?

Had it gone _better_ than her Master had anticipated?

Furthermore, why would the Dark Lord come to Malfoy Manor instead of the luxury and solitude of his own home?

She wasn't stupid. Narcissa knew that Lord Voldemort could rapidly grow tired and irritated with prolonged exposure to his servants. But she also knew that that hard to gain favour was one of the reasons that the Death Eaters, and other people, found the man so intoxicating.

He was the Dark Lord.

His intellect was inspiring to be around and his magic addictive and dark.

He was a seducer.

Charismatic, charming, brilliant and...unspeakably dangerous.

Her steps were far more hesitant this time, as she forced herself to continue forward.

Her quick mind, sharp as it was, quickly supplied her with a possible reason for his presence.

Her teeth clenched and her sky blue eyes flashed with displeasure.

Hadrian Walker.

A deep frown furrowed her forehead.

...Was it possible that the Dark Lord's interest in the boy was that strong? Or, were her suspicions and feelings of disquiet simply projecting onto a perfectly explainable circumstance?

Her steps quickened as she strode through the rich halls, her chin held high. It was likely that the man was in the main parlour.

Almost as soon as the thought had fluttered through her mind, Narcissa heard the quiet murmurs of multiple voices wafting over her as she drew closer to the large entertainment room.

She stopped directly outside the parlour, her nose a metre from the panelled wood, and listened carefully; attempting to place the muffled sounds with faces she knew.

Narcissa breathed in relief.

While she couldn't make out individual words through the door, she was able to sense the tone within the room; that of soft conversation. No screams, crying or dark threats.

Narcissa knew that there was any number of ways her assumption may well be premature. Not to mention immature and recklessly naive; but it did help calm her nerves somewhat.

Still...nothing could distract from the heady, lazy blackness of her Lord's magic.

"Lucius," Narcissa heard the amused, silken hiss clearly through the closed wooden door in front of her.

She tensed. Goosebumps appearing on her cream skin as a cold wind swept past her.

The other voices immediately hushed.

Narcissa paid her discomfort no mind as her body hastily leaned forward. Her face was a beautiful painting of riveted attention at the call of her husband's name.

One could never predict or understand the reaction or source of Lord Voldemort's amusement. All she knew was that it was better not to take the chance and have it directed at you, or those you loved.

"..We seem to have a stray lingering outside this room, my friend."

Narcissa's eyes grew wide in shock and disbelief and she fell back a step. How had he known she was there?

"Why don't you open the door for your wife, Lucius?"

...

Hadrian narrowed his eyes on the small cottage in front of him.

He'd spent the last four and a half hours tracking her to this very spot.

He was surprised. It wasn't her style. The grey stone walls couldn't possibly contain more than four rooms. And the roof was made of an old thatch wood, likely having sprung several leaks.

Astrid liked luxury, elegance and a never ending night life.

So what was she doing way up in the remote seclusion of some of France's more wild mountain forests?

Hidden within the protection of the dense foliage surrounding the small meadow, Hadrian sent his magic seeking.

There was only one magical presence that he could sense.

He stepped out of the cover of conifers smoothly, indescribably pleased to not have to temper and restrain his muscles from gliding with his natural grace.

As he walked silently through the high grass, he let his glamour's fade.

Eyes fluttering shut, his steps never faltered.

The barest hint of a smile curled the outermost edges of his suddenly perfectly proportioned mouth. Like always, Hadrian released a breath as a small, constant weight on his magic was gradually lifted.

It felt like finally being able to stretch after holding the same position, absolutely still, for days.

He'd kept his glamour's up for the longest period of time. Normally, he was able to find extremely secluded places within the walls of Hogwarts to let them down. But he'd been too on edge and hesitant since school began.

Too many people were watching him.

To let go of his glamour's in such tumultuous territory...it was asking for disaster. And he preferred not to tempt fate.

He raised his wand to the rune lock and smiled as he felt his body grow.

He was standing directly in front of the rotting wood front door when he opened his eyes.

It was so unlike her.

Raising an arm, he knocked twice.

...

It was three fourty five.

"We need to tell your Mother, Draco!" Daphne hissed, for the umpteenth time. Her harsh whisper was louder than she had tried to keep her voice, but her nerves were too panicked.

"I don't even know if she's home!" Draco glared furiously.

"That's a pathetic excuse and you know it." Blaise said angrily.

All five were tense and snappy as their eyes never stopped scanning their empty and dark surroundings. Hoping, against all reason, that Walker would suddenly appear in a place that they'd already checked four times already.

In the darkness, snow fell softly.

With no warning, the Malfoy heir stopped moving. Eyes, staring ahead, down the deserted alley, saw nothing.

Gentle snowflakes coated their expensive robes, their hair wet and dripping.

All four Slytherins jerked to a halt and stared at the blonde silently in question. Their eyes were varying degrees of confusion, exasperation and sympathy.

Draco's mind reeled.

The truth he had refused to accept previously was no longer escapable. The icy realisation had his stomach plummeting with emotion.

"He's not here...Is he?" Draco's staggered voice whispered the words that they had all been thinking for the past hour. Simply unable to wrap their minds around the only realistic conclusion they had come to.

"..._He's not here_."

All of a sudden, he was much colder.

...

Forcefully, Narcissa took a hold of herself, embarrassed by her reaction. She should have known that such a powerful wizard as the Dark Lord would immediately sense her hovering presence.

She heard the quick, sharp steps of her husband's shoes increasing in volume as he grew closer to the door. The handle was pushed down and she was looking into bemused mercury eyes.

"Lucius," She murmured delicately in greeting. Showing nothing.

Gliding forward, she paused, to press a light kiss to his cleanly shaven cheek, before continuing on into the room.

"My Lord." Narcissa bowed her head respectfully to the smirking figure sitting elegantly in the corner of a conjured black leather lounge.

"I was beginning to think you didn't like our company, Narcissa." He teased silkily.

She lifted her chin, refusing to blush. "I was simply surprised, My Lord. I did not expect you to return for a few hours."

"Change of plans." The Dark Lord's eyes were amused as he swirled what looked like coffee, before sipping the liquid. "That is not a problem, I hope?" He set down the white, porcelain mug on the side table beside him.

"No, My Lord."She assured needlessly. The man had full access to any part of their lives and he knew it. The question had been a mockery in itself.

When the Dark Lord made no move to speak in the lengthening silence, a high pitched cackle sounded through the room and a strong hand grasped Narcissa by the elbow, pulling her harshly to the left.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix grinned broadly. Her excitement and pleasure exaggerated. It was such a waste; Azkaban had only left her sister with an occasional sanity. There were times when Narcissa almost believed she had her older woman back. She was as sane as she remembered her. But that mental stability slipped often, and for no reason.

"Careful Bella, you wouldn't want to deafen the woman." The teasing comment drew both Black women's attention.

Bellatrix's mouth twisted in displeasure at Rabastan Le'Strange.

His presence surprised Narcissa and, for the first time, she had a moment to actually look around the room and see the people that were in her home.

Rookwood, Macnair and Wenderly stood in a trio beside the fire, directly opposite the smirking Rabastan. Lucius had taken a seat in the arm chair nearest to where she was standing with Bella.

However, it was the stranger that she could see held most of the Dark Lord's attention that really piqued her interest.

"I don't believe I've made your acquaintance." Narcissa said to the tall, brown haired man.

Her eyes flicked to her Master, only to see his hooded crimson staring back at her, revealing nothing.

"This is Ian Kildare, Cissa. He is the leader of the largest group of vampires in Russia." Lucius informed her helpfully.

Vampire?

Her excitement ignited. They would make powerful allies if the Dark Lord managed to secure their allegiance. Maybe he already had. Or perhaps the man was in the process of courting Kildare, she didn't know.

"Pleased to meet you, Lady." The plain looking immortal tilted his head to her in a decidedly gentlemanlike manner.

The Dark Lord stood abruptly. His movement immediately obliterated the tiny feeling of ease that had only just started to heat.

All eyes followed the man as he walked over to the window to stare out across the darkening grounds.

She frowned slightly at the change in light. She hadn't realised it was so late. She glanced at Lucius's watch from the corner of her eye, reading the analogue hands quickly.

It was four. The boy's had been gone for five hours now.

Again, she pondered on her strange uneasiness.

Narcissa had told Draco to make sure he and Walker were back to the Manor for dinner at seven, but she knew her son understood her real curfew to be five in the evening. She would feel better once her eyes could rest on Draco's physical form.

"Is your son home, Narcissa?" The Dark Lord asked quietly.

He knew that he wasn't.

"He is at Diagon Alley, My Lord. Christmas shopping with his school friends."

Lucius shot her a look. He didn't approve.

She could admit that it wasn't exactly preferable to have the heirs of some of Britain's oldest pureblood family's out alone; at such a shifting political time. But they were in Diagon Alley, which was relatively safe, and they were together.

"...And Walker?" The Dark Lord turned to fix his piercing gaze on her.

Narcissa swallowed. He was displeased for some reason.

"With him."

"Walker?" Bellatrix's disgusted cry echoed through the room. "A Mudblood?"

"Unfortunately." Lucius answered with his own grimace hidden behind a hand.

Macnair sneered. "Is this your new ward?"

"Ward?" Bella repeated shrilly, her eyes crazed.

"Oh, be quiet woman." Rabastan snapped harshly.

"Silence!" The angry hiss of the Dark Lord darkened the room and Narcissa sucked in a breath.

The man's lazy magic was rising for some reason. She could feel it.

The flames in the hearth fluttered perilously low.

Her Master's eyes were not looking at any person in the room. They were fixed entirely on the door.

Ian Kildare rose from his chair slowly. "...Riddle...?" His eyes were apprehensive. As a magical creature he could feel the swirling currents of black magic more keenly than the wizards and witches surrounding him.

The door to the parlour slammed open abruptly.

"Mother! Walker! He's gone mis...!" Draco's frantic call cut off suddenly as he was caught in swirling blood red orbs.

All eyes, and most wands, were drawn and aimed at the panicking figure in the doorframe.

The only one that didn't react defensively was the Dark Lord. He simply raised an inquiring brow. But emotions simmered in his eyes, hidden expertly.

Crimson that steadily darkened in colour at the young man's words.

"Draco?" Narcissa could feel her protective instincts rising at the wild stress on her child's face and strode forward quickly. Her son was, above all, a pureblood wizard. He had lived and breathed appropriate decorum and manners since his first breath. For the seventeen year old to forsake something so ingrained in him...

Lucius stood from his chair, his reaction more controlled. But his mercury eyes were locked on his small family.

Draco's wide gaze had yet to leave the Dark Lord. Incapable of looking away from the arresting stare.

Long, elegant fingers stroked his yew wand.

"Would you care to finish that sentence, Mr Malfoy?" A treacherous, unexplained ice cooled the air.

The fire's flames died.

...

_Hey! The Dark Lord and Hadrian FINALLY meet again next chapter! :D _

_Don't forget to review! Please! ;)_


	16. Am I Late For Dinner?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! ;D Will be answering ALL reviews for last chapter in the next day! Promise! :D_

...

Hadrian lowered his hand from the door after knocking, and waited.

It shouldn't be long before she answered. He hadn't bothered to deactivate the amateur protections surrounding the property so she should have known the exact moment he passed the perimeter.

Hadrian's skin suddenly tingled in warning and a loud crash echoed through the silent meadow as one of the cottage windows shattered.

He ducked hastily, barely avoiding the red spell that flew through the empty space his head had just been in enough time. Behind him, a small boulder exploded as the curse made physical contact, smothering him in dust particles.

"Reducto!" A beautiful soprano voice shouted the spell this time and Hadrian didn't even have the time to scowl before he needed to drop to the ground and roll.

"Diffindo! Stupefy!"

The barrage of spells never slowed, flying continuously at him from different angles, endeavouring to take him off guard.

He opened his mouth to call out but quickly dismissed the idea. The quiet meadow was roaring with violent noise and there was no way she would be able to hear him.

His wand in his hand, Hadrian continued dodging her rapidly cast curses, reluctant to fire any of his own in case he actually hit her.

A reluctance that quickly disappeared.

Hadrian hissed angrily as the bone breaking hex soared past him, missing by a hair's breath. She'd cast it silently.

With a crack, he apparated.

Instead of materialising behind her, as she was no doubt expecting, Hadrian simply disapparated a metre from his original position. As he had anticipated, her back was now turned away from him as she searched the area frantically with her eyes.

He swiftly cast the body bind hex at the female form and watched as her limbs froze, before toppling back, disappearing into the tall grass.

Hadrian let out an irritated sigh as he walked forward.

Coming to a stop, he peered down at the face down body in amusement. It was the first time he'd had a chance to lay eyes on her since she'd come out with her attacking onslaught of spells. The tall grass had acted as a quick defence but also kept Astrid from seeing his face or body, consequently, he'd remained a faceless enemy, it seemed.

"I must say," Hadrian drawled with a small smirk, making no move to lift the jinx. "I'm awfully tempted to just leave you like this, Astrid. Face down; in the mud..." Somehow, even in her immobile state her palpable shock at the discovery of his identity was apparent. "Alas, I did come for a reason."

He flicked his wand, silently casting the counter curse.

Immediately, Astrid's two arms pushed her upper body from the ground as she coughed, her pale blue, cotton dress dirty and completely ruined.

"Hadrian...?" It was a soft question.

"Indeed." He mocked.

"...You're such a brat, Walker!" Her angry exclamation after a long pause had him rolling his eyes and turning away, intent on getting in out of the freezing cold.

"Where are you going?" She demanded hotly.

Hadrian continued forward. She'd finally gotten to her feet, he surmised.

"I have no intention of waiting for your princess sensibilities to be appeased, Beaumont. I am going to see exactly what kind of rat –hole you seem to have banished yourself to." He said calmly as he pushed open the front door and strode in, uninvited.

He grinned as he heard her growl under her breath before her stomping steps followed him, slamming the door closed with such force that it seemed to rattle on its hinges.

"Interesting holiday spot." Hadrian murmured as he took in the derelict lounge slash bedroom. There was parchment and clothes strewn everywhere making it impossible for him to see any of what lay underneath.

"Is it safe to sit?" He teased and finally turned around to look at his twenty two year old friend. She was glowering at him defensively with her strange black eyes.

Astrid Beaumont was indeed one of the most beautiful women Hadrian had ever met. She was beautiful in a classic, obvious kind of way. Then again, he'd like to see a siren or one of their descendents who was not such. She had the tell-tale platinum blonde locks of her species which fell to her waist in thick, straight silk. She was tall and statuesque, her features perfectly symmetrical. It was the eyes that she had inherited from her human Father that gave her appearance both a sinister and indescribable uniqueness. Completely black, her orbs seemed to have no ending, extraordinarily large and wise.

"What do you want, Hadrian?" She spat out.

The quarter siren also possessed an acidic tongue.

"What are you doing up here? Tracking you down was much more difficult than I had anticipated." Hadrian questioned, ignoring the demand easily as he let his eyes trace the small room.

"None of your business."

Hadrian frowned at the woman. Normally, her ire would have cooled by now. Astrid was defensive and often cruel to people she didn't like or know but to those she considered friends she was unerringly loyal.

"...Are you alright?" He asked slowly with a piercing stare.

Hadrain watched with some concern as her face seemed to crumple and pull itself together again, over and over.

"I spoke to Fredrick..." He coaxed. The wizard had quickly told him of an incident within the family that he had not been made privy to. All the other had known was that there had been furious screaming from both parties. Her tutor didn't know where she was though, Hadrian had had to find her himself.

"What are you doing here Hadrian?" The blonde witch wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Does this have anything to do with the fact that you have just come into your majority?"

Her black eyes snapped up to him, shock dominating the eerie orbs.

"How do you know that?" She demanded.

Hadrian raised a brow. "You're power to entice and confuse, has been reaching out to me since I got here." He drawled.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "You would think that if a wizard of your age was able to push aside the effects so easily others, with far more years, would exert some effort."

Astrid waved her wand, conjuring a blazing fire in the crumbling hearth.

"My Father has decided to marry me off." She breathed out loudly with a disbelieving shake of her head, as if she still could not quite believe it. "As I'm sure you know, a full blooded siren's voice works similarly to the Imperius Curse. Being three quarter's human, my voice, while it may be extremely pleasing to hear, it's siren power is greatly reduced. Nevertheless, I will always project a watered down version which makes those around me more inclined to agree with what I say. An especially potent and disarming form of charisma, if you like."

Hadrian nodded his prior knowledge and waited for her to continue.

"Papa, it seems, has developed a habit of gambling, which he had not informed any of us of." Her face took on a thunderous expression. "Long story short, we have no more money. He has systematically worked through all of the Beaumont vaults in Gringotts. There isn't a Galleon left." She let out a distressed chuckle, pushing her long hair back over her shoulder roughly. "Still, as if this wasn't enough! Papa has been borrowing money from the bank, friends and work colleagues to continue the gambling while trying to maintain our previous standard of living." She breathed deeply through her overwhelming ire as her eyes narrowed. "...A wealthy, well-known Spanish, politician approached him about a month ago. He knew all about the financial problems and the dozens of people we now owe money to...he said that he'd take care of it. Pay back all of the debts and even give our family a weekly allowance of two thousand galleons...all he wanted...he said that he would do all of this...in exchange..."

"...for you." Hadrian stated bluntly as her voice trailed off.

Her black eyes glanced up at him. "Yes."

"I see." Hadrian said calmly, knowing how independent Astrid was this was likely killing her. "This is why you are up in the mountains? I assume the man wanted an answer as soon as you were informed?"

A broken grin stretched across her lips. "No. Papa signed his agreement in a magically binding contract a day after the man approached him. I'm to be married in six months."

Hadrian swallowed back his disgust at her Father's selfish actions. Her family was between a rock and a very hard place. They weren't just broke; they owed money to seemingly everyone in their social circles. This wizard was promising to make all of that disappear nicely with no one the wiser. It was an extraordinary convenient fix, for everyone but Astrid.

"He's fifty three! He's been married twice before and has a daughter four years older than I am!" Suddenly, she was screaming. "It's sick! My own Father has sold me off to the highest bidder like his prized bull!"

Hadrian's own preoccupied mind quickly flew through what he knew about magical contracts. There had to be a loophole. There was always a loophole. You just had to catch it.

"Do you have a copy of the betrothal contract?" He inquired softly, stopping her tirade.

This might actually work in his favour, if he played his hand correctly.

"Don't even bother, Hadrian." She sighed tiredly, pointing to the long, crumbled scroll of yellow parchment half rolled up on the cluttered coffee table. "What do you think I've been doing up here for the last four days? There's no way to get out of it. It's iron clad."

He ignored her words and reached for the contract. Slowly, he unrolled it and glanced over the extremely long document. Nothing immediately popped out at him but he hadn't expected it to. Pureblood contracts dealing with family alliances such as this were notoriously complicated. Still, he was hopeful that close examination may illuminate a way out.

He'd need a few hours to look through it though.

Hadrian's green eyes lifted from the paper to find hopeful ebony staring back at him intensely, despite her bitterly confident declaration.

A tear ran down her peaches and cream skin and he shifted restlessly, the parchment crumpling loudly in his hands.

"I don't want my life to be dictated by someone else, Hadrian." She whispered softly.

He averted his eyes from her emotional face, uncomfortable.

Astrid had never been a person he had ever intended to one day call a friend. They had met at a large party that an old acquaintance of Raven's had discreetly invited them to. He had been twelve. Hadrian had been standing off to the side of the ballroom; observing people as he was want to do as they passed over him. But one pair of black eyes found him, amongst the shadows, and had refused to leave. He had become more and more annoyed as the humour in the older girl's eyes grew. She had been very popular, he could remember. Men of all ages were constantly surrounding her and he could tell she enjoyed the attention. But her entire focus had been on him that night.

She hadn't approached him until the winding down of the party, in the early hours of the morning. Astrid had skilfully manipulated him into dancing with her taller figure and his normally unruffled features had been pinched and aggravated as the people around them exclaimed with grins about how cute he was; dancing with the seventeen year old beauty multiple feet taller than him. Little had they known that it hadn't been a shy, blushing boy that had approached the quarter-siren for a dance but the stubborn blonde that had asked _him_.

She had refused to leave him alone, despite his young age. Astrid had later told him that his eyes had caught her attention. Not for their arresting colour, as many had commented on before, but the dark, cold fire that raged within them.

For the next year, at every function they both attended she would always find him. And she would always, somehow, force him to accept a dance with her. For the first four months, Hadrian had obstinately kept his mouth shut as she chattered away; not remotely detoured by his mute form as they danced for the songs few minutes. Slowly, she had coaxed words from him with her surprisingly intelligent conversation. By the end of the year, their customary dance was something he enviably looked forward to amongst the boring tedium of the elite functions.

Following that year, in which she had slowly wormed her way into his small regard, their conversations began to take place beyond their one dance and he had found her surprisingly astute and sly.

Though it had taken her three patient years Astrid had been determined to become his friend. She may not be as close as he was to Gabriel but she was a part of his trusted circle.

Hadrian rolled up the betrothal contract slowly, thinking quickly as he watched her still, morose form.

"I have a favour to ask of you." He stated quietly. "In return, I will find a way to break the contract."

It was a daring and potentially explosive claim, if he somehow couldn't find a solution. But he was confident that he would, one way or another.

"Hadrian. Come on." She scoffed. "Even you won't be able to find a way to circumvent this. You haven't read it. The man must have had the best lawyers in Spain write it up!" Astrid scowled.

"Nevertheless," He smirked. "It's your best option. And I am promising you." Hadrian repeated seriously.

As she stared at him in the growing silence, he saw as her eyes slowly came alive with acute hope.

"What do you want?" She breathed.

Hadrian's eyes slipped from her face to the amulet hanging from her pale, unblemished neck on a fine sliver chain.

Her hand immediately rose to clasp the pendent possessively.

His eyes flicked up to lock with hers, knowing that her physical reaction had been purely instinctive on her part.

"You want my Grandmother's amulet?" She asked disbelievingly.

"Yes." Hadrian said simply.

"...Why?"

Hadrian didn't answer her question; he just continued staring at her.

She swallowed. "You know how much this amulet means to me." Astrid stated.

"I do."

"Why then?"

Still, he said nothing.

"I remember telling you about this necklace. Years ago. It was a present from my maternal grandmother. It was the only thing she gave me. I woke up one morning, and it was just laying there on my other pillow with a note attached. Never take it off, Astrid. That's what she said to me. At breakfast, the Ministry informed us that her body had been found. Her heart ripped from her chest."

Her black eyes were pleading him for some sort of explanation which would explain his request but he couldn't tell her about the Dark Lord's spell infecting his system. He would never tell anyone.

"I know." Hadrian said.

"That's why you tracked me down, isn't it? You were going to ask for my Grandmother's amulet even before you found out about the contract, weren't you?"

Looking into her dark eyes, he nodded.

Hadrian knew how important the pendent was to Astrid. She and her Grandmother had been particularly close and her parting instruction was very important to the quarter siren. Still, Astrid's value of the necklace was purely sentimental. She had no idea that her Grandmother had actually spelled her own still beating heart from her chest and bathed the amulet in her own full blooded siren life blood. It was a very dark and specific ritual which transferred part of the siren's power of persuasion into the jewellery, smoothing the wearer's path through life. The woman had been dying and wished to protect her kin in the best way she knew how.

Astrid's hands swept her long mane over her shoulder and reached for the pendent's clasp. Letting the chain settle into her palm she stared at the simple dragon symbol for a long moment before she held it out to him with a small, sad smile.

"I know you wouldn't ask for it if it wasn't important, Hadrian. And...I'm sure that my Grandmother would agree with giving it to you, considering that you're giving me my life in return."

The smallest touch of guilt beat at the corner of his consciousness but he pushed it away. He was trying to escape his own future of servitude as well.

He reached for the amulet, picking it up from her limp palm and dropped it deep into his robe pocket for safe keeping. "...Thank you." He murmured, letting the small smile on his lips show his sincerity.

Astrid cleared her throat, her pale hand rubbing the bare skin of her neck.

Finally...progress. He was hoping to find a way in which he could somehow reverse the necklace's effects so that the siren's power, instead of projecting would be capable of going into his body. The soothing effect of the magic and its persuading powers might just allow him to tweak the connection and change some of its directives.

"Tempus."

It was five fifteen. He had been here longer than he had intended.

He strode to the door, slipping the marriage contract into one of the openings in his robes as he went.

"I've been here longer than I had meant to be, Astrid." He explained absently, his mind already far away, going through possibilities of how he might force the amulet to bend to his needs. It was very powerful magic and figuring it out could take him days.

"Don't worry yourself, Hadrian." She laughed as she followed him out the door, her mood much improved at his promise of escape from her predicament. "I'm used to your spontaneous and often short lived visits. Why should this one be any different?" She teased.

"I'll contact you when I have an answer for you, Astrid." He stepped outside, into the meadow. Reluctantly reapplying his glamour's as he walked. "And for Merlin's sake, get back to civilisation." He smirked, tapping the rune on his bicep, before swiftly spinning on the spot and disappearing with a soft crack.

Hadrian appeared in the middle of a small, young forest. He bit his lip as his brow drew down in an impressive scowl.

He had had every intention of materialising on the bottom step of the grand outside staircase of Malfoy Manor. Apparently, his subconscious hadn't.

He frowned at the familiar trees surrounding him. Raven and he had walked these paths enough when he was a child, that it would be impossible for him to ever become lost in the dense green.

He was in Denmark.

And Nadine Manor, his home, was one mile walk to the North East.

He breathed out angrily, scuffing his boots against the cold dirt at his feet.

He wanted to walk that mile. He wanted to see if the wards, truly, would not allow him to pass. And if they didn't, he wanted to tear those protections down and demand from Raven what the hell was going on.

Still, he didn't move.

He wanted to see his Mother, but his pride and fear stopped him. She had broken off all communication between them. She had. He couldn't stand the thought of lowering his neck to such an extent as to beg. For anything. He had only ever begged once in his life. His fists clenched. The nightmare memories of his time at Blackborne flooded his mind before he could stop them and he was cast back to that night. Watery eyes and lustful fingers petting his skin, forcing him down, smothering his screams. Hadrian swallowed.

Begging hadn't done him any good that night.

A bitterly cold wind swept past him, pushing him forward a step with its force. His neck snapped up. Dim, green orbs were sharp and cautious as they rapidly searched the swaying tress around him.

It was five thirty. He had a full one and a half hours before the generous seven pm deadline he had set himself, arrived.

The wind dyed down but his eyes continued to dart around him.

He had escaped a torturous day in Diagon alley, retrieved the magical artefact that might help him solve his problem with the Dark Lord's spell...so why was there suddenly a sense of dread in the air? As if magic was holding its breath, far more alert than its typical lazy self.

His eyes narrowed, ignoring the way the snow began to permeate through his cheap robes, stinging his skin with cold.

It felt as if the entire area was holding its breath.

Letting his hand slip into his pocket, Hadrian clasped the amulet tightly. His eyes stayed watchful for any movement but none materialised to explain his growing unease.

Uneasiness was crawling warningly beneath his skin as he stood still.

Screw this, he thought suddenly. At this point he didn't care that he would be giving up ninety minutes more freedom. His magic was restless, and the feeling of increasing dread convinced him that apparating directly to Malfoy Manor now, was the best course of action.

Hadrian had only just begun to spin sharply on his heel. His destination focused in his mind's eye. When, dark currents of magic hurtled out of the trees with no warning and swirled around him, constricting painfully.

Concentration, completely and utterly devastated, his body jolted unexpectedly. His ankle twisting painfully at the ungraceful halt in forward momentum and his dull eyes widened in shock.

"_Fuck_." He hissed explosively.

The Dark Lord was here.

In Denmark. In the middle of freaking nowhere!

Hadrian was quick to right his body and, with tense muscles, pivoted slowly on his throbbing ankle. Ignoring the cold, his eyes were narrowed as they never stopped searching for a tall, thin figure or glimpse of a shadow in the area around him.

What was the chance that the man had just randomly picked this particular spot for a leisurely stroll? His mind quipped sarcastically at the most absurd time.

Had the Malfoy's really run straight to their Master? Had he miscalculated to such an extent?

"_Fuck_!" He swore softly under his breath.

Gritting his teeth, his mind flew wildly whilst trying in vain to ignore the way goose bumps had flared embarrassingly across his skin in reaction to the intoxicating darkness inherent in the magic sweeping over him intimately.

Hadrian felt the necklace in his pocket shift as he turned around to look behind him. The reminder of the success of his venture immediately cooled his emotions and enabled him to grasp his shock firmly.

His spine straightened proudly.

Even if the Dark Lord knew about his excursion, he touched the amulet, it was worth it.

"Mr Walker..." The quiet hiss seemed to echo, giving him no information as to the wizard's location. "I wonder...do you purposefully attempt to test my patience or is it merely a side effect of your impulsive, thoughtless actions."

Hadrian stared into the dark forest blindly. The man was doing this on purpose, he realised easily with an angry curl to his lips. This taunting, mocking. It made him weak and vulnerable; completely at the Dark Lord's mercy.

"To tell you the truth, My Lord..." Hadrian spoke his words clearly, his voice slow and guarded. Just because he felt like the mouse being stalked by a panther didn't mean he had to show exactly how unnerved and apprehensive he was. Quite the contrary, in fact. "...You didn't even enter my conscious thoughts."

His words were an absolute lie, of course. Lord Voldemort had, much to his growing displeasure, been featuring on the forefront of his thoughts for months now.

Hadrian's sharp eyes snapped around, seeing something out of the corner of his gaze. It was all the warning he had. A dark shadow was suddenly swooping around from behind him. His eyes too slow to follow the graceful movements.

Long, cold fingers wrapped tightly around his throat.

He gasped loudly in surprise, having no time to anticipate the action. Before those fingers abruptly constricted and pushed him roughly against the tree behind him.

Hadrian only needed the barest second to fully appreciate and comprehend exactly how dangerous and threatening situation he was trapped in.

"I feel that it is only right for me to inform you, Mr Walker, that my patience with you has been stretched to its limits in the last hour. Therefore," Hadrian glared at the grass over the man's high shoulder, the only position those painful fingers were allowing him to see. "I would strongly advise you to watch what you say." The words were hissed into his ear as warm lips brushed against his cheek.

Hadrian glowered. His lungs were beginning to hurt from lack of oxygen but he would be damned before he admitted such to the brute.

Internally, he was cursing himself for not waiting before he had reapplied the glamour's to his body. His real height would have given him much more leverage in the physical cage he was currently caught in.

Clearly sensing his anger, Voldemort chuckled darkly, as if his daring emotional response entertained him. It did nothing but fuel his ire, as his mind began to remind him of all the problems the Dark Lord had ignited in his carefully calculated life.

His chest was growing tighter now, desperate for air.

His glare disappeared and his eyes shot open, impossibly wide, as a spidery hand brushed the back of his neck, travelling down his spine slowly, mapping the bumps in his vertebrae in an agonizingly intimate exploration.

Hadrian wasn't able to stifle his body's reaction this time and he wrenched away from the tight hold, his heart beating wildly.

What the hell did Voldemort think he was doing? The Dark wizard's confident, arrogant touch was almost, freaking molestation!

The hand wrapped firmly around his throat loosened a little and his lungs immediately gasped in much some needed air. The wandering hand had come to rest at the base of his spine, spraying across his lower back.

"Release me." Hadrian demanded, his voice raspy from the pressure still being applied to his neck. His green eyes were blazing over the man's shoulder.

His body was forcefully crushed closer into the tree's bark and he winced as it connected, unexpectedly hard, with the back of his head.

"You are not in the position to demand _anything _from me, Mr Walker." The sibilant hiss was heated against his ear.

The man was angry with him for disappearing today.

Well, that was just fine. He was furious with the bastard for making him stay with the Malfoy's and for putting him through hell with this blasted connection!

"Fine." He spat out. It was futile to think he had the power to order or command Voldemort to do anything he didn't want to do in the first place. "But if that hand of yours creeps any lower..."

A dark chuckle interrupted him and the body holding his prisoner shifted even closer.

The vibrations shaking the man's chest, coupled with the calculated brush of intrusive dark magic, sent a shiver racing down his spine. "..I'm intrigued, Mr Walker. How do you hope to stop me if I wish to continue?" There was a decidedly amused and patronising lilt to the dangerous croon. There was no doubt in Hadrian's mind that the Dark Lord was fully aware of the shiver that had passed through his body. Smug Bastard. "I don't take well to threats, Hadrian." The hair on the side of his head ruffled as the warm breath of the man passed through the dank, brown strands. "Even empty ones."

The Dark Lord drew back from his ear and, for the first time tonight, Hadrian locked eyes with the intense crimson that had dominated his thoughts since summer.

The hand on his lower back slithered down another inch, dangerously close to his arse. Red, penetrating orbs were dancing with excitement, daring for him to protest.

Instead of glaring, he smirked.

He wouldn't play to the Dark Lord's tune if he could help it. The intimate action, he decided, was the man's chosen method to unsettle him tonight. Tomorrow would be a different tactic. The next day, something else entirely.

The Dark Lord's eyebrow rose in surprise, waiting for Hadrian's next move.

It had been practically generous of the man to issue his warning, and Hadrian was under no illusions of the pain he would suffer if he dared to cross that line.

However, he would walk it.

"Simple, My Lord." His hand came up to wrap around the one at his throat. Voldemort was simply trying to put him on edge, exert his dominance with the invasion of his personal space. "If your hand creeps down any further, I will personally make sure that I am the one that kills Luicus Malfoy."

He purposefully allowed his seriousness to flood his eyes as the Dark Lord stared at him in silent contemplation. There was no way the man would let one of his top Death Eaters go to waste for this, Hadrian knew. And while the man may forbid, blackmail or employ any other number of methods to stay his hand, eventually, there would come a time that the Malfoy Lord was alone, distracted and unprotected.

A cruel grin stretched across the man's lips and Hadrian narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"You amuse me, little one."

Hadrian's face didn't react. He wasn't a fool. The man may be amused by his words and threat but there would undoubtedly be consequences for his bold utterance.

"Very well." The man agreed. It was clear that the Dark Lord was simply humouring him.

The hand around his neck unwound and the tall figure stepped back and away from him. Hadrian shifted on his feet cautiously, his eyes never straying from the unpredictable and dangerous man in front of him.

"What was your reason for leaving Diagon Alley today, Walker?" The quiet inquiry was lacked all humour, as the emotions abruptly left the Dark Lord.

Merlin, Draco was such a little snitch! He was certain that it was something the peroxide blonde had done that had crumpled the effectiveness of his plan.

"I was under the impression that Lady Malfoy wished for Draco and I to be back before dinner, My Lord. Unless I'm mistaken, I followed that instruction." Hadrian's flippant response got away from him and he was voicing his thoughts before he had a chance to censor them.

He cursed silently; readying his body for any painful possibility.

Instead, his neck tensed with shock as that black, lazy magic brushed against him, seeming to caress his cheek. Within it was a strong impression of its master's small amusement and a warning not to push too far.

"...Indeed." A small smirk spread across the man's lips as he regarded him. Hadrian stiffened distrustfully. "A very Slytherin excuse, Mr Walker, I must admit. But you are right; it is your guardian's fault for allowing a student and child to get the better of them."

Hadrian defences immediately heightened. What was the man playing at? He had felt the sheer intensity of his magic, now it was settling. Did the man honestly expect him to believe his anger to have gone? He snorted internally.

He soon received his answer.

"I have been uncharacteristically gentle with you tonight, little one..."

Hadrian glowered. "Oh, yes. _Very_ gentle. That would explain the conduct that resulted in the large bruise on the back of my head _perfectly_." He smiled sarcastically.

He sucked in a breath and clenched his teeth as a wordless spell engulfed him and pain gripped his chest. It was a dark spell that replicated the overwhelming pressure on the heart and lungs that one would experience if they were to have a heart attack. Like the Unforgivable torture curse, this one only replicated the pain and, therefore, didn't actually do any damage to the victim's body.

"Watch your tongue, Walker." The words were clipped and inundated with the Dark Lord's natural, untamed menace.

The spell lifted, thankfully, after twenty or so seconds. Hadrian knew that he only had his own stupidity to thank for his pain. Despite the knowledge, he hadn't been able to stop the words from following.

Lord Voldemort had indeed been relatively gentle with him this evening. Looking at his actions, and the man's low tolerance, he knew he was extremely lucky.

"Tell me," Hadrian had just barely caught his breath when he stiffened at the fake politeness of the command. "Why did you go to France?"

Red glinted knowingly, mocking him.

"...How did you know where I was?" Hadrian said slowly.

His body suddenly went cold, feeling numb. The Dark Lord's cruel smirk widened as the answer shattered through his mind.

"The spell." His statement was deadpan. "It tells you where I am."

"Not exactly. But close." Crimson flared maliciously and handsome features seemed to heighten. "Bravo."

Hadrian was silent as he stared at the equally silent Dark Lord. He couldn't possibly form the words which he wanted to. He would have to do figure out exactly what sort of location speculation was attached to their connection and go from there. There was no way in hell he was going to accept this.

"I was looking for a friend." Hadrian, instead of throwing a fit or demanding answers from the man, answered his earlier question. Voldemort just smirked at him, before silently prompting to continue.

Hadrian gritted his teeth. He would have to be very careful with his words.

"I promised that I would help her get out of a marriage contract that her Father signed and I needed to have the original document, so that I might study it."

No lies. Every word he had said was true. The chain shifted again. Just not the whole truth.

He went to retrieve the scroll from his robe pocket as evidence, but his hand found nothing. Just an empty pocket, there was nothing in which to find.

He had promised Astrid...!

"...Looking for this?"

His confused eyes darted forward to see the Dark Lord holding the thick, rolled up parchment in a light grasp.

Hadrian stared at the picture, unable to comprehend what the marriage contract was doing in the Dark Lord's hand. With the absoluteness of wards falling Hadrian's mind clicked.

His lips thinned and deep humiliation swept over him. That was why the man had been so close to him for so long. He had literally, been searching his pockets! Resentment stormed through him as he grasped the entirety of the man's arrogant audacity.

The back of his neck reddened as he remembered his embarrassing reactions to the man's soft hisses in his ear. It was all a play! His fists clenched as he realized the extent of his degradation. He couldn't believe there was even such a small part of him that had been excited by the intimate contact!

No wonder the Dark Lord had been so exceptionally superior and amused by his defensive threat, to end Lucius Malfoy's life. The man had simply been stalling for time.

"...Yes." He managed to get the word out under those laughing eyes, but just barely. He felt mortified. And the man knew it.

Silently, Lord Voldemort held out the scroll and Hadrian cautiously took hold of the other end and returned it to his pocket.

All thoughts of Raven and the Nadine Manor's proximity had been resolutely ejected from his mind.

"You should be returning to your guardian's house, Mr Walker. No doubt they will be relieved to see you in good health." The Dark wizard spoke into the growing silence.

Hadrian's lips twisted cynically at the obvious jibe. It didn't bother him, the Malfoy's attempts to use him; because he knew that they would never succeed.

Nevertheless, he was relieved at the dismissal. His humiliation at his reading something into the man's actions tonight just wouldn't leave him alone.

Hadrian gripped the amulet in his fist, within his robes, like a life line.

"No doubt." He murmured.

Cool fingers lifted his chin from where he had subconsciously lowered it, his eyes looking up into thoughtful crimson.

"It is a pity that you feel so obviously comfortable in your mask, Mr Walker." Perfectly manicured nails traced his lips. "Your real face is so much more pleasing." A dark grin reflected in rich ruby.

Hadrian wasn't caught off guard by the immediate shift in the Dark Lord's emotions. He had already been played once tonight, he wasn't going to let his humiliation increase.

He read the intention in Lord Voldemort's dark crimson orbs and stayed still; as if caught in his gaze.

Triumph and...Disappointment? Flashed through the Dark Lord, confusing Hadrian, as the man leaned down.

Brilliant red eyes locked with Hadrian's lips.

Warm air blew across his face.

Soft lips brushed against his, seconds away from claiming them completely.

_Crack!_

...

Hadrian appeared on the bottom step of the grand outside staircase of Malfoy Manor.

A small, bitter smile graced his features as he imagined the delightfully entertaining expression Lord Voldemort must currently be sporting.

In reality, he had seen the surprise in the man's eyes moments before he had magically transported himself from Denmark and the Dark Lord's presence. Lord Voldemort had sensed his subtly gathered magic at the last possible second, too late to stop him.

Still, it didn't assuage his own sense of indignity over the way he had been played tonight.

It was strange, though...

Hadrian mused silently as he glanced around him in surprise; snow was falling gently around him, carpeting the extensive grounds of the estate in a magical blanket of white.

...He was sure that he had seen a flash of delighted interest in the Dark Lord just before his magic had swept him away.

Hadrian shook his head, berating himself. He had already overestimated the wizard's interest and actions once tonight; he wasn't going to permit himself to do so again. The man had simply been diverted by his bold, impudent action.

Soft, yellow light from the hundreds of windows illuminated the immediate surrounding area, creating a stunning and peaceful effect Hadrian knew, wasn't in keeping with the building's occupants.

He wondered when it had started snowing in England.

He sighed tiredly.

Instead of climbing the ten metre long steps Hadrian continued to stand in the same place he had appeared in only moments before. Letting the snowflakes collect in their hundreds.

Unlike at the cottage where Astrid was staying, the ancient wards of Malfoy Manor would reject any attempt he made to scan the interior with his magic.

Forcing his legs to move, he limped up the stairs. Without the chilling cold of the winter air creating a sort of numb feeling in his body, Hadrian knew that the throbbing in his ankle would have made the slight, constant pressure he was putting on his foot, impossible.

Reaching the three people high double entrance doors Hadrian didn't pause before he pushed one of them open and slipped inside.

"Walker!"

He almost groaned aloud as Daphne Greengrass came striding hurriedly towards him with a disbelieving look on her face.

"Where have you been?" She demanded furiously, invading his personal space as if to intimidate him.

"We've been looking for you for hours!" She exclaimed fiercely.

Merlin! He was exhausted. And he hated the way his lower back still felt warm, as if a hand were still resting against it possessively. He didn't want to deal with this! Lord Voldemort seemed to have taken every ounce of energy he had, out of him.

Hadrian ignored Greengrass openly as the sound of a set of pounding feet behind her caught his tired attention.

Zabini's furious features appeared quickly and Hadrian let his eyes dismiss them as he stared quite a ways down the entrance hall at the partially ajar door out of hearing range.

The distance of the room was superfluous, he knew.

The Malfoy's would have known the moment he had apparated back onto the premises.

A rough hand grasped him on the shoulder painfully and forced him to look up into Blaise Zabini's angry brown eyes.

Hadrian shook off the hand and glared up at the boy sharply, his sudden but overwhelming fatigue dampening his enjoyment at the boy's astonished face. Zabini was no doubt shocked at what he would see, as Walker's surprising display of backbone.

"Excuse me." Hadrian muttered stiffly and neatly sidestepped the pair.

"Don't even think of going anywhere, Walker!" Daphne hissed furiously. "Draco already told his Mother about your disappearance. Salazar's mercy! " The girl prayed nervously. Hadrian shot her a vexed look, not enjoying her presence in the lease. She caught the look and glared back at him venomously. "The Dark Lord was in the room at the time, Walker! " She exclaimed. "Draco didn't have a clue that anyone but his Mother was home; he barged in and announced your disappearance, interrupting them!"

Hadrian coughed suddenly, as a laugh bubbled up through him. Oh, what he would have given to have had a chance to see the Slytherin Prince barge in on Lord Voldemort and what sounded like some pretty important inner circle Death Eaters.

If he wasn't now dealing with the repercussions of his own mortifying meeting with the sinful Dark Lord, as a result of the boy's idiotic panic, Hadrian didn't think he would have been able to disguise his amusement.

"Is he alright?" He asked quietly as he walked down the entrance hall, towards the parlour. Perhaps the blonde was recovering from multiple curses, he imagined vindictively.

The door to the room swung open slowly as he approached; a clear order to enter if he had had the insane notion of somehow slipping upstairs without confrontation.

He just wanted to get this gruelling business over and done with.

"Oh, like you really care, Walker!" Blaise sneered.

Hadrian raised an innocently befuddled eyebrow. "Of course I care. Draco's practically the brother I never had; with the guardianship and everything."

The two Slytherins grimaced at his pathetically sentimental words and Daphne was quick to hiss, "Better not let Draco hear you say that Walker."

He was only too aware of how conveniently stubborn and childish the Malfoy heir was acting. Hadrian couldn't have been more pleased with the boy's juvenile reaction to his place as the Malfoy's ward.

"You two might want to wait outside." He practically ordered.

"That's not going to happen, Walker." Blaise scoffed.

Instead of walking through the threshold, Hadrian paused to breathe, reining his temper in and grasping a hold of his very small reservoir of tolerance. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

He only waited long enough for his pause to be dismissed as understandable nervousness before taking that final step into the room.

He must have passed through a silencing ward on the door. As soon as his foot made contact with the thick Persian rug on the dark wooden floor, he was bombarded with multiple voices murmuring in furious conversations and mutterings, yet, at the same time there was a tense stillness to the air.

It seemed that the Dark Lord, before he departed, had left quite the impression on the room's occupants.

Lady Malfoy's blazing orbs were hard to miss and he felt a smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. It felt good to turn the tables on her. The three Malfoy's were standing in a small, open circle closest to him; Narcissa's hand resting on her son's forearm.

"Mr Walker..." The cold words seemed to echo in the room. "So pleased you could find the time to join us."

Hadrian glanced up from underneath his lashes and locked with the Malfoy Lord's acidic, icy stare.

Breathy laughter wheezed from the other side of the room

"I apologise." He stated. Hadrian raised an eyebrow. "Am I late for dinner?"

Looks like, that reservoir of patience was emptier than he had anticipated.

Hadrian forced himself to bow his head and not move away from the sickly yellow spell speeding towards him. It was far from easy.

Despite his humiliation of thinking that there may have been more to the Dark Lord's actions than there had been; he was suddenly wishing that Voldemort had arrogantly ignored him and allowed his hand to descend even further on his body.

It would have helped him find the iron to stand still, with the burning curse hurtling at him, if Hadrian knew that he would be the one to kill the pureblood wizard.

Surprisingly though, the curse never met its target.

"Narcissa...!" Lucius Malfoy protested sharply. Lady Malfoy pierced her husband with her ice blue eyes.

"You do not agree, Lucius?" She murmured tightly, clearly she had had her own trouble forcing herself to shield him.

Ah, yes. Hadrian regarded his guardians with thoughtful understanding. The Dark Lord had ordered that he was to come to no harm while under their roof.

"You heard Draco, Narcissa. This Mud-blood purposefully flaunted his instructions in Diagon Alley. He needs to learn some humility. "

Hadrian cocked his head slightly. He wondered how long Draco had been home for. He had been sure that the blonde would have finally admitted to himself at around four that he wasn't in Diagon Alley. He estimated, that it would have taken the boy somewhere between fifteen and fourty minutes to actually travel back to Malfoy manor, find his mother and get the necessary words out.

His Slytherin classmate was white, completely devoid of any blood and, therefore, colour. Hadrian noted with amused interest.

What had happened here?

"I'm surprised you were even able to decipher the stuttered ramblings of your offspring, Lucius." A raspy chuckle drew his attention. Hadrian's interest was roused for the first time since he had left the Dark Lord's presence. "He nearly drove the Dark Lord mad with his convoluted and nervous attempt at recounting his version of events." Hadrian took in the dirty, worn-out figure of, what could only be the famed sadist, Rabastan Le'strange.

The Malfoy patriarch sent his comrade a disdainful glance. "Your impute is neither wanted nor needed here, Rabastan."

Taking advantage of their distraction Hadrian let his eyes dance through the room, widening when he focused on the tarnished beauty that was Bellatrix Le'strange. Her eyes were sparkling with jumping emotions, as if her mind couldn't decide on the one to stick with.

Interesting gathering of people, Hadrian mused, his eyes drooping with weariness.

"Wasn't it the dolt's idea for the Mud-blood to wander off in the first place?" Rabastan Le'strange sneered nastily.

It was almost as if they'd forgotten about him, he thought with a touch of incredulous amusement.

Dim green eyes twitched, fatigue forgotten.

There was an itch...in his palm!

He had only moments to prepare himself, before a searing burn travelled up his hand and seemed to explode in his shoulder. He gritted his teeth angrily against the pain and lowered his eyes so he could glare in alarmed dismay at the carpet.

He had taken the Greccas Trillium Potion three days ago. This shouldn't have been happening!

He was supposed to have a full week! Seven days!

The only explanation he could come up with for the burning and irate spell was the Dark Lord's physical proximity to him. The spell must have become so incensed and determined to complete the connection and the man's presence must have fed it more power. It must have zapped the potion of all the magic in its liquid.

Hadrian's hands trembled slightly as the people around him continued to argue. Looking down at his hands, his eyes widened fearfully and a soft gasp escaped him.

The pitch black symbol lying between his thumb and index finger on the back of his hand was visible; for the entire world to see if they so chose.

...

Rabastan glanced up, bored by the useless squabbling. His eyes settled on the hunched, standing figure of the male Mud-blood, and what he saw caught his undivided attention.

The boy's face had previously been impressively calm for someone facing the furious faces of the powerful Malfoy's. But, he leaned forward in his chair, now; there was an almost panicked, sick expression dominating his plain, unattractive face.

Brown eyes narrowed in thought as he followed the child's gaze to where he was frantically, it seemed, tracing the skin on the back of his hand.

Rabastan's spine straightened and he shot from his chair. He had seen a curling, simple, black mark on the boy's pale skin. He was sure of it.

Green eyes met his and both arms fell, to hang limply and discarded at his sides.

Crossing the room in three strides, Le'strange reached forward with a savage snarl and jerked the limb towards him.

"Rabastan!" Narcissa cried in a scandalous tone.

He hadn't exactly been gentle and his brown eyes caught the tightening of skin around the Mud-blood's mouth as the boy shifted on his feet, regaining his upset balance. He was favouring his right leg.

He ignored the shouts behind him and the impassive expression of the boy, which revealed nothing.

His features...they were so common.

He brought the hand to his eyes.

Nothing.

The skin was clear. White. No symbol. No blackness.

Brown eyes suddenly lifted to lock with expressionless dull, emerald.

He dropped the hand.

That he couldn't see it didn't mean a thing. The real question was if he had only imagined the symbol, a deceit of the light, perhaps. It would be infinitely more plausible.

His eyes bored into the short wizard. His face...

He turned away without a word or explanation. He must have been seeing things.

...

Hadrian subtly slipped both shaking hands inside his robes and out of site. Hiding the mark had been harder and had taken longer than it ever had in the past.

Unintelligent looking green orbs watched, as the younger Le'strange brother promptly left the room with a wide, determined stride.

Odd...and troubling. It was almost as if the wizard...

The escalating burning and concentrated pain in the palm of his hand pushed the Azkaban escapee's strange and worrying reaction far from his immediate thoughts.

His heart missed a beat.

He had reached the end of the tunnel, it seemed. He had taken the first and second dose of the Greccas Trillium Potion.

He was at a crossroads.

He could give in to the Dark Lord's spell. Submit himself to whatever it entailed.

Only he couldn't. It wasn't in his nature to be ruled by anyone.

The full enormity of what it meant to take the forbidden third vial of the potion was staring him in the face; and laughing.

Hadrian swallowed and turned to Narcissa, his crushing exhaustion and agony beating threateningly at the corners of his vision.

"May I be excused?"

...

_Wow! Did I give a lot of hints this chapter! ;D I hope you all liked it _

_p.s The Dark Lord and Hadrian will be seeing each other again next chapter, don't you worry._

_The die has been cast...on both sides! :D_

_Don't forget to review! I always love hearing what you think of the chapter! ;)_


	17. The Last Hurrah

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

A/N For any of you who are interested: I've set up a poll on my profile page asking who you think might be Hadrian's biological father- a little guilty pleasure! ;D

...  
_*LATIN: Patefacio pro vestri vinco. key est cruor. Utor vestri vinco. Vox in cruor.*_

_*ENGLISH: Open for your master. The key is blood. Yield to your master. Power in blood.*_

...

Hadrian scowled as he glided quickly through halls, up staircases and across landings; trying to get to his room.

The Malfoys hadn't been inclined to grant him his request. Their cool demands to know where he had gone and the details of his excursion hadn't helped his preoccupied mind to stay calm. Hadrian's answers had been short, clearly evasive and stubbornly lacking information of any kind.

Finally, the Malfoy Lord had just swished his wand, slamming open the doors, and ordered him to leave their sight.

Hadrian hadn't wasted any time and strode quickly from the room, not once looking back.

His head was pounding against his temples and his vision was dangerously tunnelled, making navigating the confusing path more than a little difficult.

The double doors to his quarters finally before him, Hadrian didn't stop. He stepped forward and pushed down the door handle.

Dull, green orbs scrunched up in unexpected pain and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, the sound hissing loudly in the quiet. His skin was burning, the fabric of his clothes, which were moving softly against his painfully sensitive skin, felt more like vindictive shards of glass.

He growled low in his throat and let go of the door handle, roughly shutting the door behind him.

A prickling at the corner of his conscious tried to remind him of something important that he was forgetting in the pain, but his thoughts were too entirely focused on his trunk.

The room was dark, the sun having set and the moon not yet high enough in the sky to give the generous space any illumination. It would probably have made his life easier if he cast a lumos spell but, again, the screaming lethargy in his joints, coupled with his splitting headache, which his three days of sleepless nights was no doubt contributing to, didn't seem to be capable of thinking about anything beyond the potion in his trunk.

His steps were everything but graceful as he stumbled his way across the carpeted floor. Almost falling twice and twisting his throbbing ankle painfully, his wide eyes closed in relief as Hadrian fell to his knees in front of the common looking Hogwarts trunk.

He pushed the lid open, shoving clothes, books and innocent odds and ends aside until he came to a small, bright yellow mark on the left hand side of the trunk. His fingers traced the yellow paint slowly.

Hadrian could remember the day he had enchanted his trunk. It was in fourth year. It was a complicated and subtle defence which hid a small amount of space from view. He had needed to anchor the spell to something and the books had all suggested a piece of jewellery or a small coin which could be stuck to the base of the object. Hadrian decided to use never-fading wizarding paint, instead. It seemed more logical to him.

It had been a spur of the moment decision, to use the simple, curling design that had been tattooed on the back of his hand since he could remember.

Hadrian pressed his thumb to the curling edges of the painted mark and felt a sharp prick.

"Patefacio pro vestri vinco. Key est cruor. Utor vestri vinco. Vox in cruor." He murmured the Latin safeguard softly, his eyes closing as he felt the magic accept him.

A level ripple extended from the base of the yellow symbol silently, uncovering a depth to the trunk that was not previously there.

Raven's box, his personal letters, some clothes which would fit his real body; they all occupied this space. Anything which was associated with his real persona was stored here.

Hadrian reached inside and unfolded his black, winter coat. As he peeled aside the last of the material a soft clink sounded through the room as glass hit glass.

There, lying innocently on the protective cloak was three small vials of swirling, neon green liquid.

Hadrian shook his head angrily, hating that it had come to this.

A soft sound in the back of his thoughts rang warningly but Hadrian was far too preoccupied with his dangerous predicament.

He had no other choice.

His eyes hardened and he grasped the glass vial furthest to the left.

Unstoppering the cork, Hadrian stared at the lazy swirls, before closing his eyes and drinking the liquid.

There was no going back now.

He had two more doses left. Those and this measure were his deadline. He wasn't just working with three weeks either, tonight's events had proved that. His body would have built up some sort of immunity by this stage, a frantic effort by his magic to stave off the calamitous repercussions which would slowly turn the potion into a toxic substance travelling through his body.

And the Dark Lord. The more time and the closer proximity he spent with the man, the faster the magic and effect of the Greccas Trillium potion would fade.

Days. He breathed deeply, trying to control his racing heart rate, even as the pounding in his head receded and the tightening of his lungs lessened. He had days in which to work out how to force the ancient siren amulet to bend to his wishes and directions.

Days.

Determination had Hadrian tightening his fists, flashes of the Dark Lord's arrogant smirk and amused chuckles floating though his mind, only serving to increase his anger and resolve.

He would not allow Voldemort to gain control of him. He would succeed with the amulet.

And he would deal with the consequences of his actions, and the damage the potion would do his body after that.

The pain was slowly draining from him, leaving his body sagging with exhaustion against the trunk.

He was so tired. He hadn't slept since his last night at Hogwarts and, even then, he'd only managed three hours.

He scrubbed his face furiously, trying to mentally force his body to start moving again.

All of his tired movements stopped abruptly as a soft bell seemed to ring in the back of his mind. The prickling thought which had been nudging him since he had entered the room, leaving him with a feeling that he was forgetting something crucial, suddenly slammed down on him as the soft bell chimed again.

The portraits.

His spell, which would alert him to something entering the field of the frame, had been ringing since he had entered the room. Meaning, that the painting had been silently watching him as he stumbled to his Hogwarts trunk, whispered an advanced and original Latin protection and privacy spell, and swallowed an unidentified potion.

He couldn't allow this to get back to his guardians. They couldn't know about the potion. They would tell him. And then he'd never be free. This was his only chance. It couldn't be found out now. Not when he had all the tools and just needed the time.

Forcing his frozen limbs to show some movement and cover up his tenseness, Hadrian rolled his shoulders slowly. In reality, he was reaching for his wand. Paintings could move from frame to frame extremely quickly. So rapid was their movement, in fact, that the only way one could hold them was to catch them completely unawares.

"Redimio." Hadrian enunciated coldly, making sure to dampen his volume, mentally cursing himself for not ever bothering to learn the binding incantation wordlessly.

He was quick and the spell struck the canvas, a female cry of surprise telling him that he had been successful.

He was mindful of his ankle as he rose to his feet and walked forward, dropping onto the mint green couch opposite the painting hanging above the hearth.

A young woman glared down at him balefully. She was pretty, he supposed. A brunette, she mustn't have been older than twenty five with pale skin and a small up-turned nose.

"What is the meaning of this?" She crowed loudly.

Hadrian levelled her with a cool stare, not worried about anyone overhearing. He had taken care of that with a simple silencing ward.

"I'd say we have a little situation, here. Wouldn't you agree?" He leaned back, silently conjuring a strong black coffee. He had a long night ahead of him.

"I most certainly would not!" She replied hotly, feigning innocence.

Hadrian took a hold of the delicate tea cup and brought it to his lips, loving the feel of the steaming, hot liquid running down his throat, warming his body from the inside out.

The portrait wasn't going anywhere. The small panic that had built quickly at his forgetfulness receded.

He was tired, yes, but the pain from the Dark Lord's connection was gone. His mind was once again turning, scheming. For what felt like the first time since the Dark Lord's magic had constricted intimately around him and the powerful figure had pressed him hard against the cold tree bark, his body relaxed to some degree.

"Alright, Lady, I shall explain it for you." Hadrian spoke calmly, his eyes still closed as he took periodic sips of coffee. "You need to come up with a way to convince me that you will not speak, gesture, or in any other way inform your Master and Mistress of what you have seen here tonight."

Hadrian opened his eyes and watched as the innocent face of the portrait slowly melted into a mocking smirk as the silence lengthened and she realised that he was serious.

"Young man," She smiled meanly, her brown eyes sparkling, "you are in a lot of trouble. Imagine what Narcissa and Lucius will do when they find out that the innocent, clumsy little mudblood is aware of advanced spellwork and is taking illegal potions." She laughed. "I will enjoy the spectacle."

"I am surprised that you recognised the potion." Hadrian dismissed her threats easily, to her obvious annoyance.

"Yes, well, education these days has slipped so much; I'm surprised that any Hogwarts graduate can even brew the potion." She was stalling for time. Though he had no idea why she might think it would help.

Hadrian let the silence grow between them, his mind only half on the situation before him. Most of his thoughts were already flying through theories and possibilities of how he might successfully tamper with the directives of Astrid's amulet.

He couldn't have been sitting on the couch for more than five minutes, but the urge to get up and start working and researching was already becoming too hard to push aside. He needed to deal with this inconvenience quickly. A fitting description for the well-informed portrait spy.

Hadrian opened his eyes, the green darkening sinisterly; he wanted to wrap this up quickly. "While it will be most irritating to come up with a plausible reason to explain how your painting ended up as nothing more than ash, I am willing to suffer through the scepticism that event would incur rather than let your mouth run free. So, my dear," Hadrian's lips smiled. "Convince me."

Whatever response he had been expecting, a widening of brown eyes followed by genuine laughter of delight was not it.

His eyes narrowed with annoyance. "Then again, perhaps I should just levitate you into the fire in any case. You are far too aggravating."

She grinned impishly at him, completely turning her personality around, and for some reason, he had a feeling that this sort of hyper activity was her true character.

"You are an interesting man." She clapped. Hadrian's lips twitched in displeasure and he set his empty tea cup down on the side table to his right.

"And you are clearly suicidal." He snapped back. "Have you grown tired of your existence as a painting that much? Or are you simply under the impression that I will not do as I have threatened?"

"On the contrary, child, I am well aware that you are very serious in your threat." She chirped.

He levelled her with an unimpressed stare that seemed to deflate her.

"I am afraid that however much this situation amuses me, I am incapable of going against the family's orders. It is a magic that was weaved into the very paint of my body; ensuring my loyalty and trustworthiness."

Hadrian sighed in displeasure. He should have expected something as such. With the vastness of the estate and long heritage of the family, the Malfoys had an immense collection of portraits all serving the present Lord and Mistress of the family. They couldn't afford to have unexpected mutiny and their ancestors would have taken steps to see that that could never happen.

"I should very much like to help you, young man; however, you will have to carry out your plan if you hope to keep your secret for much longer." She grinned, as if giving her blessing to end her existence was a great joke.

Hadrian shook his head, confused by her actions but not caring enough to find out their cause. Swishing his wand, he cancelling the sticking charm and levitated the painting down, so that one mental push backward from him would engulf it in flames.

He glared at the painting sourly. Narcissa's suspicious looks certainly weren't going to diminish after today.

"Good Luck, young man." The brunette portrait smiled strangely, but her tone was genuine.

Hadrian raised an eyebrow. "I would think that you would have more loyalty to your family, Lady." He drawled slowly; indifferent. Her dishonour in part amused and irritated him. He valued loyalty and to see it thrown away so callously...

A small, dark smirk spread across her attractive features. "I am loyal to the Malfoy family; however, I will always be more faithful to the family of my birth over the one of my marriage."

Confusion narrowed Hadrian's green eyes. A puzzlement that blossomed into alarm, the second time tonight, as he followed the path of her eyes which had flicked down his body.

The black symbol on the back of his hand was once again clear and bold to see.

Hadrian swallowed with some difficulty

The Greccas Trillum potion was somehow affecting his ability to disguise it.

If he had had any strange, lingering doubts as to destroying the painting before this moment, with a belief that the suspicion he would come under was just not worth it, they promptly vanished.

"You recognise this?" He demanded coldly.

Surprise flashed through her eyes at his question.

"Of course." She replied gently, as if aware of the emotions washing through him. "I have one just like it."

Hadrian's thoughts stilled, and he watched with shock, as the familiar, coal-black, curling symbol slowly emerged before his eyes.

He stood from the couch and took a sharp step forward; eyes locked on the shadowed canvas as brown eyes observed him thoughtfully.

Where his own mark was located on the back of his hand, between his thumb and index finger, hers was coiling down from the base of her ear to the very top of her collar bone.

It was nothing less than haunting, seeing the symbol which had marred his skin for as long as he could remember, on someone else. He had never known what it was, what it meant...all he ever knew was to keep it hidden. Even from Raven. It felt private and achingly personal; something which was not to be shared.

To see it on another person...even a portrait! Was enough to send his mind spinning and a torrential sweep of questions, he never even consciously admitted to having, immediately flooded his mind.

"How...? What is...?" He stumbled, not knowing where to start first, his questions too great a magnitude to hope to organise.

His head swung round as sharp footfalls alerted the pair to an individual walking briskly towards him.

"_No_..." he breathed in disbelieving shock.

Head bowed and shaking back and forth in denial, a short bark of disbelieving laughter bubbled up through him.

_No way_, there was no way this could be happening to him!

Fists clenching, a storm of fury rose.

A question, which had plagued him for as long as he could remember, had the chance of finally being answered tonight.

And now this.

As a first year, he had searched the Hogwarts library looking for a reference or picture of what the mark might possibly mean. Nadine Library had yielded nothing, an infuriating fact for a stubborn eight year old to accept. He had finally just pushed the burning curiousity and need to know what the symbol was to the dark recesses of his mind. Until now.

Until the answers were literally staring him in the face!

The footsteps grew louder as they came closer towards his rooms. Of course, it might just be Draco going to his own quarters five meters down the corridor. Or it might be any of the three Malfoys coming towards him, intent on interrogating Hadrian about his whereabouts further.

"Quickly, child!" The brunette lady in the portrait hissed at him. "Into the fire!"

Reluctance clenched his gut and he glared at her blackly, listening as those footsteps grew closer. By the time it was apparent where the individual was heading, Hadrian wouldn't have enough time to burn the painting to the necessary extent that saving the picture would be impossible. And at the physical appearance of a Malfoy, one of her Masters, the portrait would be forced to reveal all she had learned tonight.

A bitter snarl pulled at his lips. The Manor's occupants never knocked before they entered his room either, so that common courtesy certainly wouldn't slow the individual down. A fact, he had found out yesterday morning, when Draco had come storming in, picked up Hadrian's potion textbook without an askance and promptly left.

"Hadrian! Hurry!" She hissed urgently. "They can not find out about the mark!"

He desperately wished to demand why, but, with a will and discipline forged through years of formidable restraint, Hadrian spun around and jabbed his wand forward violently.

He watched, his face blank, as the large canvas and frame landed on top of the logs and instantly began to smoke. A profound sense of loss occurred to him. It was a wasted opportunity. He had forced his burning curiousity to stay buried for so long but, if anything, it had only increased over time.

Footsteps clapped loudly on the wooden floors outside, but his eyes wouldn't leave the painting; the identical mark that was tattooed across the lady's vulnerable neck.

A wide smile spread across her face, unexpectedly. Her obvious good humour did nothing but stir his overflowing resentment in that moment. "It's the family, young man. _Our family."_

Hadrian's wand twitched, wanting to lift the painting from the dangerous flames and demand answers to his questions.

It was almost cruel, her words. Enticing, explaining _nothing_.

She nodded slowly, her small grin, the one that curled as if she were sharing a secret with him, blackened rapidly as the fire burnt the painting, turning it to ash.

A sort of numbness washed over him as he watched the canvas's corners curl inward and disintegrate under the heat.

Hadrian listened carefully as the approaching footsteps paused outside his doors.

Two hesitant steps forward.

A lean to the right, judging by the squeaking floorboard.

A scrape, as whomever it was turned in an abrupt one hundred and eighty angle.

Hadrian was silent. Staring into the flames. Whoever was on the other side of his chambers did not know what they wanted to do.

_Clap._

The loud thud, of a heel hitting the floor travelled through the darkness before the person finally continued on, down the corridor.

Away from him.

He bowed his head, shoulder shaking as soft laughter echoed through his lavish bed chamber.

What a waste.

What an _absolute_ waste.

With a sharp, indrawn breath he raised his eyes to the glowing hearth. All that remained of the painting was a large rectangular space where the canvas used to sit and the frame's tarnished silver metal.

He pushed down his anger, hostility and bitterness. The same way he always did. It was the life of living a hidden persona; one he had accepted. A decision that was becoming harder and harder to keep justifying to himself.

The Dark Lord knew about him.

The Dark knew about Raven.

They knew his friends.

One of the only things they didn't know about was the mark, and he was no closer to knowing its significance than he had been at six.

Nonetheless, the Dark forces knowing of his real self was only one half of the equation. The Light side had to be considered. Having the Malfoys as guardians did mean that the unknown variable of Raven was extinguished. Still...something was holding him back.

The Dark Lord's words earlier tonight haunted him. Had he really become so comfortable as his persona? In living with a mask? Was it holding him back?

...Yes, he realised, it was. To some extent.

He had been truthful in his answer to Lord Voldemort the night the Dark Lord had demanded he lower his glamour's. Yes, there were important factors which drove him to such a drastic move, to so entirely hide himself, but he also enjoyed it. That underestimation, that lack of cautiousness which allowed him such an in-depth knowledge of the weaknesses of those who surrounded him; it was invigorating.

That pleasure had been significantly dulled this year, all because of a certain sinful Dark Lord. His persona had always enabled him to dig deeper, learn more than his real personality would ever have allowed in his last six years at Hogwarts.

But this coming war was changing the playing field. More and more he found himself bound by the limitations of his persona and the advantages decreased.

His fingers absently stoked his wand as the coals slowly grew colder, losing their red glow.

Nevertheless, the thought of seriously abandoning his carefully crafted mask was laughable. Foreign, to the extreme. No matter how much he rationalised or realised the changing scene he couldn't give the thoughts any weight.

No matter how much she had hurt him with her continuing silence and lack of correspondence, Raven was his Mother. He loved her above all others. She knew his faults, his weaknesses and his cruelty; and she accepted them all.

He remembered vividly, as an eleven year old, how she had held him close; he had been portkeying to Kingscross station for the first time to catch the Hogwarts Express. Raven hadn't been able to accompany him for obvious reasons.

Her unique violet eyes had been glazed with tears as she looked him over, making him fidget at her show of emotion, but inwardly, he had been pleased and swelled at her obvious love for him. She had wrapped strong hands around his bony elbows and stared him straight in the eye.

"_Never dissert your mask, Hadrian. It is both your protection and your greatest weapon. Use it." _

He was never able to forget those intense words for even a moment, during all his years at Hogwarts.

Because, as much as his intelligent mind fully comprehended how his hidden persona was a formidable weapon. The only protection, that he could see his bland personality granting him, the only obvious security he could grasp it offering, was a shield; a defence which could be utilised to stop Hadrian from ever being forcibly taken from Raven.

Even at eleven, he knew that there had been more to her words and his dull green orbs had narrowed to suspicious slits before the portkey had whisked him away.

Raven was a strong and powerful witch, with a forceful character. She also knew the majority of his capabilities. For his Mother to still focus on the protection his mask would grant him...

Hadrian pushed his knuckles against his mouth, in thought.

He shook his head, raising his wand and casting a silent disillusionment charm over himself.

Hadrian looked down at his hand, tracing the mark until it faded completely. That would make two strange reactions to the black tattoo tonight. _Family. Our Family. _She had said.

Hadrian frowned darkly; he didn't have time to figure this out.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out Astrid's pendent. Holding it in front of his eyes, by the top of the chain, he watched, as the simple silver dragon swung hypnotically from side to side.

...

Narcissa sat in a white satin negligee at her French vanity, slowing brushing out her blonde locks with a silver brush.

She felt exhausted. From the moment her son had pushed through the parlour door, his voice saturated with panic and his mercury eyes, identical to her husband's, wide and unseeing, her heart had stopped.

The Dark Lord's magic had chilled them all; Bellatrix's amused wheeze the only sound which had been dared.

Swirling, crimson orbs had locked on the Malfoy heir and refused to let go.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she re-lived the memory.

Draco's voice had completely failed him. Utterly overwhelmed and terrified of the repercussions of his actions.

It was Lucius that had recognised the source of their Master's growing anger with a soft hiss of his name. The order unspoken but clear to all. Get Draco speaking.

Her perfectly manicured hands set down the brush and began the familiar routine of plaiting her strands into a tight braid.

Her husband had crossed the room and taken his son's chin in his grasp, forcing his startled, frightened eyes from the intimidating ruby. Lucius had had to speak calmly, yet, commandingly and ask several times before Draco had finally been able to shake off his earth shattering shock.

Narcissa could understand his reaction, and, all things considered, her son had managed to regain his feet admirably well, considering that tonight had been the first time he had ever been subjected to their Master's attention.

Draco had stumbled a few times, despite the scarcity of his words, but those lost trains of thought had been intensified whenever his flittering, wandering eyes had drifted in the silent Dark Lord's direction. Her son, as they all were, had been hyper-aware of the man's presence.

Walker was gone. Had not met her son and his friends as they had agreed. And he didn't know where he was, when he left, when he was coming back or even if he was coming back.

That had been the crux of the two minutes of stuttering and failed explanations.

The Dark Lord's aura had continued to darken and cool the air as the full story had agonisingly slowly, come to light.

Then the man had simply crossed the room and grasped the still open door, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful. Still, you would have had to have been a fool to miss his anger.

"_We will speak later, Lucius." _

Those parting words, filled with dark displeasure, had straightened her spine and quickened her pulse. Her sharp nails had dug into her son's shoulder muscle painfully and it was only Draco's sudden tenseness and Lucius's calming hand on the small of her back that kept her reaction private.

"Cissa?"

She blinked, her eyes focusing on the mirror in front of her. Through its reflection she could see Lucius was standing in the centre of their chamber, leaning against one of the timber bed posts gazing at her in some concern.

"I'm alright, Lucius." Narcissa answered calmly as she tied her hair securely with a matching white, satin ribbon.

The Malfoy Lord, undoubtedly, had many questions. After all, Walker had been under her watchful eyes for the last three days.

"Did almost three day's observance of the boy not give you any indication that this sort of action was within the boundaries of his character, Narcissa?" Lucius's voice was strained, as if he were trying to withhold any feeling of accusation.

Regrettably, he was not successful.

She glared at him through the reflection of the mirror and when she spoke her tone was icy.

"I have spoken to you concerning my reservations about the boy and you, I recall, dismissed them as fanciful and unsubstantiated." She slowly turned in her chair so that she was staring him down with no third party involved. "Do you really think, for the smallest moment, that I have not been watching Walker's every move as carefully as I am able to? If I had had the smallest inkling that he was capable of such an audacious action I would have never let him get within five metres of the manor's wards."She snapped.

Mercury eyes were just as cold as her own as her husband regarded her.

"Then the boy is more than he puts forth."

She smiled mockingly.

"Very good, Lucius. I had come to that very conclusion the day I left the Dark Lord after informing him of the successful petition for Walker's guardianship."

She stood, crossing her arms defensively in front of her as the Malfoy Lord sent her a cold, warning stare. Narcissa lifted her chin, glaring.

"I don't appreciate being made to sound like a fool, Lucius."

Ice blue and mercury clashed, neither willing to concede ground.

The memory of Draco's face when his eyes fell on their Master as he ran into the room flashed through her mind's eye and her shoulder's sagged. It was only because she was in the privacy of her bedroom and in the presence of her life partner that she allowed her emotions to been seen.

Lucius's eyes softened and he walked forward to enfold his wife in his arms, kissing the top of her head gently.

"We need to watch him." The Malfoy Lord spoke coolly.

The words hung in the air before, slowly, Narcissa pulled back.

"Closely." She agreed.

...

It was twelve noon, Hadrian realised with an angry sigh.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he leaned back against the tree behind him, picking agitatedly at the manicured grass he was sitting on and closed the cover of 'Self-Defence: The fast and easy way to prove yourself,' with a snap.

This would be the third day since his spontaneous and disobedient escape from Diagon Alley. He had finally been forced, through sheer inescapable exhaustion, to catch a few hours sleep last night. But it wasn't nearly enough to make up for the five nights he had missed.

Even so, despite the heaviness in his joints and constant fog surrounding his thoughts, he had forced himself up at two thirty this morning and continued to comb through the hidden study.

Tilting his head back, Hadrian closed his eyes, the warmth of the soft sun on his skin, pleasant.

The Malfoys had installed state of the art environmental spells around specific sections of their extensive grounds. He supposed that the elite pureblood family had both the funds and necessary inclination that was needed to justify the expense of growing flowers in their garden from all four seasons of the year.

It was completely absurd and a waste of resources. Still, with his eyes closed and taking the first brief break he had since waking up, Hadrian found himself appreciating the ridiculous luxury.

For the past two days he had been following the exact same routine he had lived before the Diagon Alley incident.

He would spend the night closeted away in the small, hidden study searching for material and spells which might help him thwart the Dark Lord. During the day, the three meals of breakfast, lunch and dinner were not to be missed under any circumstances. He would take four or so books from the study every morning, charm their covers with a simple, yet, underused illusion charm and continue searching their contents in the Malfoy library, his room, or even the gardens outside.

He knew that his reading preoccupation was at best strange and at worst suspicious. But, the truth was he didn't have the luxury of flittering his time away doing nothing. No matter how productive a front the action would be for his mask.

His deadline was looming.

At around four thirty this morning he had found a rune sequence which, when added to his raw magic, would enable him to break the protective shielding around the amulet.

Now he had to focus on discovering a way to use the siren power, encased within the pendent.

"What are you doing out here, Walker?"

The timbre of the mature teenage voice on the cusp on manhood would not be one he was likely to ever forget. No matter how much he wished that were not true.

"Malfoy." Hadrian stated the name slowly as he shook his head.

A dark shadow fell over him, blocking the artificial warmth from the spring spelled sun. Hadrian finally blinked open his eyes and looked up at his classmate.

The blonde was staring down at him with a neutral, cautious look. It didn't surprise him. Draco had been obsessively observing him for the past two days, since Diagon Alley. Before now though, the boy hadn't sought him out.

Regrettably, he had known the blessed silence couldn't possibly last for much longer.

"Was there something you wanted?" He disguised his annoyance expertly and inquired with a gentle, innocent tone.

"Self Defence?" The blonde pointed his chin down at the spelled book laying closed in his lap.

Hadrian smiled slightly. "For the duelling class."

Malfoy tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Black and Potter's, the one on Saturday?" His question was sarcastic.

"Of course." Hadrian answered calmly.

"You're studying for a lesson that you haven't bothered to even attend once? Somehow, I doubt that."

The Malfoy heir was trying to intimidate him, Hadrian realised with sick amusement. The idea that the seventh year might even have the necessary information or skill to design such a scenario was laughable.

"I didn't feel comfortable attending, Malfoy." Hadrian explained casually, his body language calm and self assured with the topic. Totally innocent. "I'm not good at spells or defence, but, with the war...well, don't you think it would be irresponsible of me to pass up the opportunity to learn?"

It was complete bullshit...and the boy knew it. Now, that _was_ surprising. Draco's jaw was twitching, as if he was forcing himself to remain in character, to not deviate from a script.

"Don't lie to me, Walker." He growled angrily.

Hadrian took his time to answer.

Malfoy was confused and angry at what had happened in Diagon Alley. His responses had changed, Hadrian noted shrewdly. His mind was suddenly open to possibilities, theories, _even_ the idea that he had been wrong. The only question was who had spoken to the pureblood? Who had snapped him out of the, oh so, convenient self pitying mind-set that had been serving Hadrian so faithfully since that meeting in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

"I'm not lying to you." Hadrian said slowly, still sitting in Draco's shadow. He ignored the urge to stand from the submissive position; it was unnecessary and would only be construed as nervousness.

"Why did you leave Diagon Alley?" The blonde stepped forward.

Ah, and the golden question is asked for the millionth time. Did Draco really think that Hadrian would tell him if he had refused to tell even the boy's parents?

"As I have already told Lord and Lady Malfoy, Draco," Hadrian stood slowly, brushing grass from his lap before bending to pick up his book, "I have already answered that question. If you wish to know, ask the Dark Lord."

"Salazar, Walker! What is up with you?" Malfoy exploded, stepping up close and into his face.

Hadrian glared lightly and purposefully stepped left before walking forward.

"Nothing is wrong with me, Malfoy." He stated tersely.

"Oh, really?"

A strong hand shot out, wrapping around his shoulder and jerking him around. "Your behaviour follows no logical pattern! You're a nervous person; at least you appear to be. Yet, even with painfully subtle, yet, somehow still obvious, signs of apprehension and anxiety your speech and body language is also always, in some way or other, calm."

Draco breathed deeply, his eyes searching Hadrian, watching his reaction to his words.

"Explain to me how you can be both a coward, frightened of your own shadow, terrified to speak up in class, a loner with no friends..."

Hadrian shifted back on his feet, his face blank.

Malfoy leaned in closer, his warm breathing hitting his face disgustingly.

"But...! At the same time, have the guts to leave Diagon Alley, go off, presumably by yourself and show up again at Malfoy Manor to face my parents with nothing more all-embracing than general discomfort . _Please_. Explain that to me. Explain how those two personalities could _possibly_ be the same person!"

Hadrian shook off the hand gripping his shoulder and let, for the first time, his annoyance, worry and heated emotions show on his face. A seemingly uncontrolled demonstration of emotion would help him here.

"Have you ever spoken to the Dark Lord, Malfoy?" He snapped. "Have you ever been in his presence when his entire focus is on you?" Hadrian demanded heatedly.

He was going on a hunch here, but he was fairly certain he was remembering correctly. Le'strange had laughingly mentioned Draco's reaction to Lord Voldemort that night, when he had returned to the Malfoy manor. If he was right...

Hadrian widened his eyes, a classic sign of loss of composure and escalating emotion. "_Well_? Have you?"

"Wha-?" Draco closed his eyes, shaking his head back and forth as if caught in a bad memory. "What has this got to do with...?"

"When I got back to the Manor that night, Malfoy, I had just been speaking with the Dark Lord. There was nobody around but me and..." Hadrian trailed off.

Rubbing his lips and chin roughly with his right palm, the nervous body language induced by the mere reminiscence of the moment verified what looked like inexorable fear.

It was maddening to realise, in the back of his mind that it had been far too effortless for him to play up his emotions to create such a convincing charade. It might not be fear, but he was feeling an awful lot.

Remembering... Crimson eyes.

The feel of the man's tall, thin body close against his...It was overwhelming...

To remember...

Shadows and wind hadn't a hope to mar or cover the dark and indisputably sinful features.

Sinister sibilant hisses in his ear, hot breath ruffling through his hair.

Dark magic brushing against him intimately; squeezing, caressing, encompassing...

"Walker?"

Hadrian blinked, surprised to focus on quietly considering mercury.

He cleared his throat. "You'll have to forgive me, Malfoy. For not according your parents, their due in my emotional fright...Truthfully? It was taking all I had to keep my eyes open at that point."

Hadrian ran a shaky hand through his brown locks for the finishing touch, watching with obscured eyes, beneath his eyelashes, for the predictable and pleasing dim of suspicion.

He continued forward. As rhythmic as his movements were, his thoughts were not.

Hadrian pushed the Dark Lord to the back of his mind. He had become adept at the art since summer, but the volume of practise he had had these past two days had perfected the ability to heights he never would have predicted.

Coolly, Malfoy came up to his side to walk beside him. Merlin, he hated how the boy was so significantly taller than his persona. Hadrian suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and glare at him darkly.

Draco was getting on his last nerve.

"I believe what you said about my parents and the Dark Lord, Walker. I've been there myself and...I can understand the...numbness." Draco stated.

Seriously? Was the blonde really looking to become Hadrian's confidante in an effort to expunge information from him?

He couldn't help his incredulous look, "What's with the sudden empathy, Malfoy? You're not exactly known for having the highest level of tolerance around me." Hadrian probed gently.

Draco may be telling the truth about believing him, in fact, Hadrian was certain he was. But his suspicions were far from assured. He idly wondered whether Narcissa had finally shared her grievances about him to her family after his walk-about incident two days ago. It was something to check.

"Just trying to wrap my head around you, Walker."

Hadrian's eyes narrowed minutely at the blasé answer and he slowly turned his neck up, towards the blonde. The barely suppressed eager light in the boy's eyes quickly revealed that this was simply another amateur method to put him on edge.

Hadrian sighed, bored by the company. His mind was itching to get his hands on the book lying innocently on his bed in the Manor. Charmed to look like a simple Potions textbook, he hoped that it might provide him some significant secrets that had the ability to help him.

"You never answered my question about why you came looking for me." Hadrian asked his companion, irritated.

He didn't care why the wizard did anything, he couldn't care less. However, Hadrian Walker, the one Draco Lucius Malfoy believed he had almost figured out, would never feel comfortable enough in the Slytherin's presence to not suffer from an urge to fill the awkward silence.

Draco's body language abruptly altered. He went from casual security to anxious realisation within the space of a millisecond. Hadrian's attention was immediately captured.

"Malfoy?" He called. He had to quicken his pace as the pureblood's steps sped up.

"Mother sent me out to collect you...hurry up!" Draco's explanation cut off abruptly as he glared at Hadrian icily over his shoulder.

Clearly, the young man had allowed his thoughts to get carried away and had forgotten the importance of his task for the twenty or so minutes of their exchange.

Hadrian ground his teeth. "Collect me for what?"

"There's a ball tonight. Some German politician or family is throwing it. As the ward of the Malfoy family you are required to attend. Mother wishes to get your dress robes sized and made by tonight, so the fitting is now. You'll also need to be prepped about what to do and what not to do at these things. Everyone's going. Easily close to five hundred, I estimate."

Hadrian's spine straightened.

Everyone. Meaning the Dark allies, the ones Voldemort wasn't keeping hidden and to himself anyway. The inner circle Azkaban escapees, along with the rest of the formidable inner circle Death Eater's would be there. Hadrian guessed that most of the Dark Lord's marked mob would be in attendance. And their families, it seemed. Politicians, creatures perhaps...yes, Draco was right. Tonight's ball would easily number five hundred.

The last hurrah, Hadrian realised with a sudden clarity of thought that he had not been capable of for days. The Dark Lord was finally ready to move. He had established dominance, had his numbers, had his power...and Fudge, the Ministry and the wizarding world, for Merlin's sake, they were none the wiser.

Voldemort would keep his and the Dark's actions anonymous. Hadrian was sure. The surprise and advantage the Ministry's blindness gave the Dark was priceless.

He grasped his wand tightly in his robe pocket.

There was a change in the air.

An excitement.

An indrawn breath before the plummet.

"Apparently..." When the blonde's soft voice faded out Hadrian looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Mother said that...the Dark Lord...he wanted you to..." Shaking his head, Draco chucked without humour. "I hope for your sake that you can figure out what in Darkness our Lord meant Walker, otherwise..."

The Malfoy heir wasn't nervous or worried for him, rather, how a mistake by Hadrian might end up reflecting badly on the Malfoy family. The pureblood heir was trying to figure something out. Whatever it was he was about to say, he had no idea what it meant, and that was clearly annoying him.

"Malfoy." Hadrian demanded sharply. More sharply than he had intended.

Hadrian's entire focus was hanging on Draco's words. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't because it was a message from the Dark Lord but his practical mind wouldn't allow him to. The man was thrilling and fascinating to him.

Mercury narrowed and Draco's steps halted. Spinning in front of his path, Malfoy stared into his eyes coolly.

"...Our Lord has ordered that you let yourself _breathe_ tonight."

...

_Hey all! Sorry about no meeting with the Dark Lord and Hadrian in this chapter as I promised. I actually have their meeting, which I was going to post in this chapter, written. But, it's too long to put in chapter 17 so it will be in 18._

_Please, review! ;D As always, I appreciate each and every one of them! :D_

_..._

_AUTHOR NOTE_

_**19**__**th**__** July 2011**__**: Howdy! Is that shock I sense? Gaping? Wide eyes? Blinking, then checking to see the words aren't dissapearing before your very eyes...? Yeah, that sounds about right ;D **_

_**About the long break I've been taking from writing...sorry. I was going through some stuff which put me into a not so loose, more a noose type tightness of an unenviable bind. That said, I hope you you guys haven't lost your ethusiasm for my stories! I just finished my uni exams, so, I'm going to take the next couple of days to re-read Personas and Enduring Obesession, look back over my notes, basically jog my memory because the amount of ends I always like to have is ridiculous and frighteningly easy to contradict seemingly small points if I'm not careful. Then, I'm going to be working on an update for each these two stories. Not sure at the moment which one I'll write first though(GRIN).**_

_**SO, (drumroll please! ;D) the good news: Both stories are going to have new chapters sometime in the next four weeks, at this moment I'm thinking sooner rather than later, but, unfortunately, it depends on how my re-reads go. Though my updating won't be quite so frequent as it was before, (one about every two weeks), I do intend to be updating both stories until completion from here on out without hiatus'. YEH!**_

_**Hope this message reaches everyone out there! I'm off to re-read them myself now so...chao! ;D**_

_**...Hm...Huh...(scratches head)...riiiight...I have to be honest, didn't think I'd be hitting a road block quite this early in the comeback process...which one do I read first?...(sheepish grin and wink)...eeny-meeny-miny-mo, anyone?... **_

_**;D**_


	18. Uncomfortable Bonding Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

"...And Draco, make a point to speak with Frank Gilbert, the junior editor of the Daily Prophet, those kinds of connections can be worth their weight in gold."

Hadrian rolled his eyes as he paused outside the door momentarily. Lucius was busy teaching his son the value of social and political networking, it seemed.

"Of course, Father."

Draco's polite acknowledgment spurred Hadrian's forward progress and he walked out from behind the door and stepped smoothly into the room.

The Malfoy family, he could admit, looked impressive.

Narcissa was elegant and cool in an off the shoulder black dress which fell in straight lines to sweep softly against the floor. A single, large diamond sat delicately on a black, velvet ribbon choker at the base of her throat; the clever simplicity of the jewellery seemed to only call attention to the unique brilliance of the stone.

Lucius was dressed in matching black wizarding robes; nevertheless, the tight upper fit coupled with his fashionable high collar was anything but stuffy or unattractive. Draco, surprisingly, was dressed in a black, crisp suit. While perfectly acceptable and even considered more stylish, Hadrian was surprised to see someone with such ingrained pureblood ideals wearing clothes with a direct muggle influence. Not to mention to an event such as the one they were on their way to.

"Hadrian..."Narcissa inclined her head in acknowledgment of his presence.

Hadrian silently mimicked her actions, careful never to lower his head far enough that his vision was impaired. It would not be advisable to lower his guard; the icy reservation in the Malfoy Lord's grey eyes made that clear enough.

"Did you not like the robes I had commissioned for you, Hadrian?" The Lady Malfoy questioned sharply.

Hadrian withheld a small smirk. While the dark blue material of the robes had indeed been rich and expensive, the design had been archaic. The plethora of ruffles and beads and copious layers of fabric had vividly reminded him of Ronald Weasely's unfortunate ensemble to the ball in fourth year. It had been a low and childish attempt at public humiliation from his guardians. The unmistakable quality of the material would have ensured that the Malfoy name would not have been embarrassed. However, the comical, ridiculous picture Hadrian would undoubtedly have made would have ensured their ward's open humiliation.

From the moment Hadrian's eyes had glimpsed the dress robes he had decided to alter one of the few appropriate outfits in the hidden section of his trunk instead.

He smiled. "On the contrary Lady Malfoy, how could anyone have disliked robes of such generous quality and taste? I merely felt more comfortable with wearing something of my own to the event."

"Indeed." Narcissa smiled thinly, having received the message. "They are handsome robes."

Hadrian had always preferred simple designs and cuts. He was not a fan of the numerous jewels and accessories that often coated any available surface of skin at these types of affairs. It had required quite a bit of tweaking in order to have it fit his persona's shorter and skinner body but he had managed it. Dressed in a deep red, his robes, not unlike Mr Malfoy's, were fitted tightly from the hips up, ending in a high collar. From the hips the coat split into a v-shape, clearly showing the casual black slacks he wore underneath, while the heavy material of the ruby robe fell to the floor to his sides and behind him. It was understated and simple.

Earlier, when he had looked in the mirror, it had been a decidedly strange feeling to see the familiar robes on someone else's body. His true form was significantly taller than the short height he was sporting now, and while still slim his real persona possessed a lean body shaped with strong, wiry muscles that produced an entirely different picture than his mask's weak and skinnier frame had while wearing the robes.

"Thank-you, my Lady." He murmured softly.

"We will be flooing to the destination, Walker, so try not to fall flat on your face when you get there, yes?" Lord Malfoy informed coldly. "Draco tells me that you have an inferior level of balance and elegance than even most of the Mudbloods you go to school with." The insult barely registered with Hadrian, the mocking words meaning nothing to him. "Clearly, you can not be trusted to keep my family's name untarnished and if it had been up to me you would not be getting within one hundred feet of the Rookwood estate. However, the Dark Lord had ordered your presence this evening and I will obey, as always."

That was interesting. Voldemort wanted him there enough to issue an order to his guardians to explicitly bring him along. Seemed a bit much for one measly wizard, Hadrian mused silently, letting Lucius's threats wash over him.

"Stick with Draco, Walker. There will be consequences for your actions if you do not follow my instructions, let me assure you of that."

Hadrian stared into menacing grey eyes. He was only too well aware of the violence and sadism that this man was capable of. He was certain that it was only the Dark Lord's orders that had stayed the wizard's wand so far. Even so, those eyes told him not to push.

Too bad he had no intention of being Draco's puppy dog for the rest of the night.

"Understood, sir." He replied, with a raised eyebrow; as if he thought his orders a bit much and was just humouring the wizard's prickly and unnecessary precautions.

Lucius's face twisted into a snarl as his hand snapped forward and curled around Hadrian's shoulder, constricting painfully.

"Narcissa, Draco..." the blonde wizard motioned to the fireplace impatiently, indicating for them to go through.

Hadrian looked on silently as the two figures disappeared, one after another, in the green flames. Narcissa had hesitated briefly, before sending her husband a warning stare and speaking the location clearly. Instinctively, Hadrian's muscles tensed under the restraining, manicured claw, wondering what would happen once he and Lucius were alone.

He hadn't to wait long.

As soon as the last vestiges of green flame had died down, he was shoved roughly away from Lucius. He quickly brought his hands forward to break his fall against the carpet. Apparently, the Malfoy Lord's patience had run out.

Hadrian winced slightly as a sharp burst of pain ran up his arm from where his right wrist had jarred against the carpeted stone floor at an awkward angle.

"You press your luck, boy." The hissed words echoed softly from behind him and despite the knowledge and necessity of maintaining his mask, Hadrian refused to hide his face from this man.

Turning, he fixed his dull green eyes on the figure partially concealed in dark shadows.

"Habit." He answered flippantly.

A sneer painted Lucius's lips. Hadrian's eyes narrowed as Malfoy took his wand from the top of his silver, snake cane and pointed it at him.

"You will obey me, Mudblood. I promise you that."

Hadrian sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as a medium level pain spell encompassed him and glared blackly at the carpet in front of him.

Lucius had used his family's powerful and ancient wards to inflict the pain and kept it going for a minute and a half before he deigned to lift it. Hadrian's anger stirred but he quenched it. He could have fought back. Only the simplest form of distraction was all it took for a wizard to lose connection and control of blood wards. It was one of the reasons they were hardly ever used in such circumstances, a wand was far more reliable. However, not every wizard had a Dark Lord's orders looming over them, curbing their actions. This way, the pain curse would never be found in Lucius's wand. Clever. Risky, but clever.

"Don't test me, Walker."

Hadrian raised his neck slightly so that he was staring at the blonde through his fringe. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep the furious clenching of his teeth hidden, Hadrian didn't answer, merely lifted himself from the ground.

The Dark aristocrat sneered at him for his silent insolence "Well, don't just stand there stupidly boy, go!"

"Of course...Lucius." Hadrian smiled minutely enjoying the way Malfoy's pupils dilated with rage at his daring presumption of casual address.

It was one thing to maintain his mask of carefully constructed meekness. There was an absolute control in that. He was constantly manipulating those around him to a degree which was not only intellectually stimulating but sometimes, even thrilling. However, Hadrian never had, nor would ever tolerate abuse, of any kind. He didn't want his mask to be the victim because the victim is never an unknown, they are never invisible. He wasn't creating a life or person with his hidden persona; it was a constantly evolving weapon which he intended to capitalise on until, like all tools, its uses ran out.

Mind turning, Hadrian walked silently towards the fireplace, sinking his hand into the sand like substance on the mantel piece.

Normally, his 'invisible' status coupled with being fully capable of talking and manipulating himself out of any corner had meant that although his persona might be thought a prime target of bullying it was very rarely tried. Still, when such events had inevitably arisen he very quickly silenced them.

Throwing the sparkling sand at his feet Hadrian spoke his destination softly, yet clearly. "Rookwood Estate."

In his persona he may not have the luxury of defending himself directly against attacks as he would naturally, but it hardly mattered. He was just as good at quelling any unwanted and inconvenient threats indirectly.

With a flare of warmth as the flames leapt to encompass him, he was spinning.

Unfortunately for Lord Malfoy, Hadrian didn't appreciate attempts at abuse.

The warning to try and exit the fireplace gracefully had, for once, been an unnecessary one. Hadrian had no intention of allowing himself to fall to the floor in front of countless death eaters and dark sympathisers, utterly at their mercy. Violently, he shoved his anger at the Malfoy Lord aside and stepped smoothly from the flames, not one speck of ash apparent on his robes.

"Well done, Walker." Draco murmured mockingly from his left as he stepped aside, clearing the path for any who came behind him. "Come on." The blonde Slytherin was clearly avoiding bringing up the subject of what had happened between Hadrian and his Father. That suited Hadrian just fine as he had no intention of sharing.

Entering through a large pair of double doors Hadrian let his eyes scan the enormous crowd, instinctively searching for an opportunity to ditch his blonde companion. Regrettably, Draco seemed to have taken his task of babysitting far more seriously than last time. His peer's mercury gaze kept a constant surveillance on his position from the corner of his eye. Hadrian shifted uncomfortably feeling extremely closed in, no doubt a sensation the leech beside him was contributing to. Within the room, there was a stuffy and polite gossiping atmosphere, but it was only clouding the raw undercurrents of excitement permeating through the cavernous ball room.

His friends would be here. They were all here, his eyes darted from person to person, somewhere in this room. He breathed deeply and followed Draco through the crowd. He did wish for the chance to converse with them, but it was too risky. An indulgence he could live without. Gabriel, especially, as the Dalton heir would no doubt be the focus of a large amount of attention. Something he wished for less than the want to see those of his trusted inner circle of friends.

His lips twitched.

He had been ignoring it. That dark, seductive current of magic sliding through the room. Ignoring it from the moment he had stepped clear of the flames.

The Dark Lord. A shiver ran up his spine as crimson eyes blazing with life and magic flashed across his mind's eye.

Let himself _breathe!_Hadrian scoffed mentally as he ducked under an indifferent waiter and their silver tray of champagne flutes. What kind of want-to-be cryptic phrase was that?

Games. Innuendos.

Finally, as he moved through the crowd, by chance, multiple bodies seemed to part in either direction to the side of him. And there he was.

Hadrian's steps stilled.

The Dark Lord was standing just below a small raised dais. A king presiding over his servants. It was clear that the man neither wanted nor needed to move. The half thousand number oriented themselves around Lord Voldemort quite dutifully.

Breathe...

What did it mean?

Crimson eyes lifted and suddenly his whole world was a tunnel of vision leading to one man. Ruby eyes locked with dull green, glinting with hidden pleasure and amusement. The right side of those sinful lips quirked slightly and Hadrian's world abruptly came thundering back.

The man was laughing at him!

As if having caught his thought and furious indignation the darkly handsome Dark Lord smirked cruelly. Hadrian despised the way his heart was racing. And he hated how his breath caught at the dangerous air surrounding the man. Suddenly, Lord Voldemort was raising his deep glass of cognac to him before the inevitable throng of people rushed into the space, obscuring all vision and communication between the wizards.

Hadrian bit his lip before walking to the impatiently waiting Draco.

Let himself breathe...it could mean any number of things. That was the problem.

Did the Dark Lord mean for him to discard his mask? Socialise with his friends? Dismiss his Slytherin classmates? He had no idea. Well, that wasn't true. He was nearly entirely sure the Dark Lord meant all of the above, being the interfering idiot Hadrian had come to the conclusion that he was. Still, it wasn't a move he would have predicted. From all he had heard and witnessed himself, Lord Voldemort always got his way. It was too simple and he must to have known that Hadrian would not reveal himself unless forced to...it was disturbing him.

The Dark wizard would not issue an order that would simply be ignored for a second time. Hadrian was sure that the painful connection was part of his punishment for his bold actions before the start of term. If the man seriously wanted Hadrian to be forced to abandon his mask he would be struggling very hard to find a way to escape his webs. That was why Hadrian had been searching his mind ever since Draco had muttered the words to him for a threat. A hidden warning to comply, but he couldn't find anything.

Which didn't make sense.

Hadrian stopped in front of an obviously keyed up Draco and raised his eyebrow expectantly.

"Where to now, Malfoy?" Hadrian verbalised, feeling put off by the blonde's continuing silence.

As it turned out, at that exact moment, before his companion had a chance to respond, they were descended upon by what seemed to be the majority of Hogwart's sixth year Slytherins.

"Draco! There you are! I know that it's proper to be late to these sorts of functions but an hour? Isn't that pushing the boundaries a little?" Pansy giggled as she swooped in from behind Malfoy to peck him on the cheek in greeting, smiling widely.

"Good Evening, Pansy." Draco smirked with humour but didn't bother responding to the inquiry.

"Merlin, am I glad you're finally here, Drake! I was practically drowning in all this oestrogen!"

Hadrian's eyebrow twitched at the appearance of Zabini, Greengrass and Nott. Blaise was grinning, obviously finding his comment exceedingly funny; his white teeth creating an attractive contrast against his darker skin.

"Honestly Blaise, with Millicent, Pansy and I that makes three girls and you, Theo, Vincent and Greg make four guys. Unless you're finally willing to admit that you're a girl as I have been pointing out for years now, we actually have a large testosterone overload." Daphne quipped.

Sweet Darkness, Hadrian groaned mentally, he hoped this wasn't a preview for the type of conversation he was going to have to sit through all night.

...

Hadrian exhaled softly as the icy air hit his skin.

The Malfoys and Hadrian had arrived at this enormous party three hours ago and he'd been trying to find an opportunity to leave the oppressive and well-mannered gossiping atmosphere ever since. Dodging any person he recognised and never staying in one place for more than a minute. He had glimpsed the famed Bellatrix Le'strange out of the corner of his eye at one point; she had been laughing, clearly enjoying herself.

The two metre length marble terrace quickly faded beneath his moving feet as he walked swiftly into the dark, silent gardens.

His agitation and boredom had been growing larger the more time passed; unable to stop himself, for even a second, from feeling the wasted moments ticking by; the squandered time. Not to mention, he could feel the slightest heat beginning to originate from his palm.

The Dark Lord's proximity, even amoungst a crowd that turned out to be closer to nine hundred than five in number, was too much of a strain on their incomplete connection. It didn't matter that the Greccas Trillium potion wasn't supposed to fold so quickly under this type of magical onslaught; its makers certainly hadn't factored into its design the vast ocean of power available to a wizard such as Riddle.

He had one more dose of the potion back in his trunk. But he'd already ingested the forbidden third dose only a few days ago. The potion was doing its job, feeding the incomplete link, fooling the magic into thinking he was completing it himself, but, it was also poison running through his veins now.

The closer and longer he was in the presence of Lord Voldemort the quicker the potion's effect would run out.

He had made progress with the amulet, but not enough. The constant feeling of urgency to return to the hidden alcove filled with books back at Malfoy manor was constant. He didn't want to have to take the fourth and last dose any sooner than was absolutely necessary. Once he did that, then he really was looking at a stopwatch that he wouldn't be able to slow.

Hadrian plucked a perfectly formed white rose bud off an overhanging branch as he walked deeper into what was obviously a fairly complicated maze structure; expertly avoiding the sharp, defensive thorns.

Instead, he was stuck here.

Stopping suddenly beneath an arch of leafless wisteria, Hadrian clenched his teeth and sighed. Looks like that fourth dose wouldn't be as far in the future as he had hoped. Swallowing his mounting tension and anger at the situation, Hadrian sat down on the simple stone bench and tilted his neck back to look up into the clear night.

He breathed in the arctic air deeply. No matter how much he resented his position, he wouldn't show it. A small sardonic smile touched the edges of his lips. If it weren't for the company, this simple silence would be sublime after the constant voices and press of bodies.

"The stars are particularly splendid this evening. Wouldn't you agree, My Lord?" Hadrian spoke to the empty space in the centre on the maze.

The Dark Lord hadn't tried to conceal his aura as he had approached Hadrian at a leisurely pace; he had no reason to hide.

"If I were the type of person to appreciate such a thing, I would no doubt agree with you, Mr Walker."

Hadrian lowered his eyes and neck to see crimson roving over his small figure speculatively.

"You continue to disobey me, boy." The man was standing tall, his arms loose at his sides as he leaned against one of the four, white marble columns framing the circular area.

Hadrian narrowed his eyes at the reminder of the man's 'command' and stood; uneasy with even that small physical disadvantage between them.

A dark smirk spread across the man's lips. "But I knew you would." Lord Voldemort crossed his arms slowly and regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, cruel amusement dancing in his eyes. "I wonder, do you know that to which I was referring? Your confusion is obvious and not without just cause, now that I think about it. You have been remarkably disobedient of my orders, enough that I would warrant; specification, to be the crux of your uncertainty." The tall wizard's magic swirled in excitement as the man smirked. "One of the reasons you should do what you're told boy. It must be quite difficult to keep track of your extensive webs of deceit, I can only imagine the way your mind must have twisted and turned, desperate to figure out the meaning of my words."

Hadrian's mouth thinned with displeasure at the Dark Lord's amusement. He didn't appreciate being made to sound or look, like a fool.

Besides, Hadrian didn't believe for a moment that the dangerous wizard hadn't meant for him to suffer in his lack of knowledge. His words had been too vague. The ambiguity, no doubt, was a small, yet, cleverly calculated revenge for the way he'd apparated away from the Dark Lord the other night.

Hadrian supposed he should be feeling grateful that his little rebellion had amused the man as much as it apparently did and his action hadn't meant something far worse than a few hours of relentless tension and aggravation. But, he didn't. He was annoyed, aggravated and the heat in his palm was steadily climbing higher, it would not be too long before it became a burn.

And he still didn't know what Lord Voldemort had been talking about when he had ordered him to 'breathe' and the bastard knew it.

"I rarely do anything that doesn't have a reason behind it...I must admit to being impressed by your ability to manipulate most of my inner circle Death Eaters, Hadrian." The man abruptly changed the topic.

Green eyes narrowed in distrust at the abrupt change in topic; his first sign that the man's words were affecting him. As much as he wanted to, the Dark Lord wasn't one to react in front of. Thankfully, he'd had lots of practise curtailing spontaneous impulses.

Voldemort laughed softly, amused by Hadrian's suspicion. "You possess a grasp and perception of the human character that is rare and extremely valuable. That you have seemed to escape Dumbledore's notice is proof enough of that...In some ways...you even remind me of myself."

"Really?" Hadrian drawled sarcastically.

The exceptionally handsome Dark Lord ignored the quip and went on as if he hadn't heard him.

"You are talented and powerful, yet, a past and the nature of your powers force you to stay hidden. You went about it very differently than I did, nonetheless, we both wore a mask throughout our Hogwarts careers which made others underestimate us."

Hadrian stared at the Dark Lord, hating the way the other was so obviously trying to coax him into seeing their similarities in order to create a false impression of camaraderie and understanding between them; but unable to brush aside the truth in the words.

Tom Riddle had been the heir of Slytherin after all, as well as a half blood. Although he was not certain, Hadrian knew that Raven knew something about his parents that scared her. Something she didn't want revealed. And Riddle had also held back the extent of his power in school. Like Hadrian's, his magic had always been intrinsically dark, something the Ministry would have wanted to control and inhibit, like his.

"You intrigue me, Walker."

Hadrian stiffened as the Dark Lord's white teeth gleamed in the darkness, vividly reminiscent of a wolf's grin.

"Do I?" Hadrian glared. Despite the truthfulness in his words this was still the Dark Lord. There was always an ulterior motive and he doubted 'bonding time' was it.

Voldemort straightened up and pierced him with his eyes. "Yes...But you're too comfortable."

Hadrian laughed harshly. "My Lord, I can assure you that living with the Malfoy's is anything but comfortable."

"Yet, they do not know that you hide your true self or abilities, do they?" The silky challenge was quiet as the man began to walk forward slowly, crimson eyes swirling with power and darkness. "They may have their doubts, but they don't know."

Hadrian didn't reply instantly to the challenge. The man's prowling body language putting him even more on edge than he had been.

Like the first time that they had met, Hadrian found himself battling the desire to shift his stance and betray his unease; but such an obvious exposure of weakness simply wasn't capable of being tolerated by a personality such as his. Neither his pride nor his iron will would allow the impulse to go any further than a fleeting thought. No matter how tired, stressed or furious he was.

Still, the Dark Lord was very close to him now.

His eyes so intense and focused that he needed a second to pause before he could answer; and he hated that truth. He really hated it.

"No, they haven't. Despite the changed living arrangements. Thank-you for that by the way." Hadrian sneered.

Crimson eyes flashed at the cheek. "Don't sulk, Walker, it doesn't become you in the least." Voldemort snapped with a small bite of annoyance coating his tone.

If Hadrian were anyone else he was sure the dismissal would have angered him, instead, he sent the wizard a sharp glance of amusement. It seemed he wasn't the only one becoming irritated.

"I wanted to test the level of your control." The man declared with no regret.

Tired from weeks of lack of sleep and effort, his living situation, Raven's silence and countless other problems, for the first time in a long time Hadrian spoke his mind without thinking."Excuse me?"

"Clearly, your control comes and goes." The Dark Lord frowned pointedly but with the hint of a smirk, fully aware of how insulting such a jibe was to Hadrian. "The Malfoy's would test you, especially with their suspicions and constant hovering, considering what happened this Summer. But, Lucius is none the wiser to your true capabilities. Neither is Narcissa, despite her grievances. Their lack of discovery is disappointing but not surprising. By avoiding detection you proved your worth and maturity." The dangerous wizard grinned with mocking congratulations.

Hadrian forcibly pushed down his anger at the blatant insult. "Well, I am glad and _really_," he stressed the word so that it was mocking but innocently so, "...honoured to have met your expectations."

Hadrian's smile was so genuine that only those who knew of his ability to manipulate emotions would understand exactly how false to that sentiment he was deliberately being. For some reason, Hadrian was irrationally pleased to see the narrowing of ruby orbs as they caught the full extent of his insult. Not many would have. It required an ability to see through his illusions and some understanding of his unique humour.

"But," Hadrian's eyes dimmed, his fake excitement abandoned as easily as it was conjured. "If you possess such an insight into my character you must have known I would never reveal myself when such exposure would bring me little gain. So, I can only surmise that your ambiguous order to 'breathe', as you put it, had nothing to do with my glamour's." Hadrian reasoned, ignoring the now searing heat coming from his palm. "So, what did you mean, my Lord?" Hadrian forced himself to use the respectful title and, surprisingly, it wasn't as hard as he had suspected it would be.

The Dark Lord halted three paces away from him and smiled darkly.

Then again, Hadrian had always known that Tom Riddle was a wizard who deserved his respect.

"You really can't conceive it, can you Walker?" Voldemort's smirk widened, his eyes dancing with sadistic amusement, yet, Hadrian could detect the slight confusion in those orbs; as if the man didn't know why Hadrian wasn't grasping this.

Hadrian glared. "You're much chattier than I would have anticipated." He spoke shortly, hating his lack of understanding.

Ruby eyes flared at the blatant disrespect and suddenly Voldemort's face was mere inches from his own, crimson roving the panes of his masked face heatedly. "What have you done, boy?" he hissed intensely.

Hadrian hastily stepped back, glaring at the man for invading his personal space. "What are you talking about?"

Riddle seemed to draw into himself, not in a way that made him less threatening but like his lazy power was suddenly focused, determined, awake. It was frightening. Hadrian just raised a mocking brow.

"Why has the link not completed, Walker? How are you able to stand before me now, eyes bright with defiance and fire? What have you done?"

There was genuine curiousness there and Hadrian was beginning to feel much like a favoured lab rat.

Just as the man's eyes had alighted with intellectual hunger the night he had removed his glamour's, so too did they now as they waited patiently for an answer; fully confident that his curiousity would be appeased.

Hadrian's buried rage concerning the connection fought to come to the surface. He despised any and all attempts to curtail his freedom.

He was willing to do anything, suffer anything to ensure that his life remained in his sole control.

He couldn't tolerate boundaries. It was one of the prevailing reasons for his mask. He was Dark. It would be obvious if he was to be himself and the ministry would fear that.

They would watch him and control him and, if needed, eradicate him if he ever exercised his power to buck against their rules of conduct.

Hadrian kept tight control of his temper. The Dark Lord, he could clearly see, hadn't forced the connection because he was genuinely interested in the methods of magic he was employing to stave off what he saw was the inevitable.

Hadrian had no intention of telling the dangerously powerful wizard what he was attempting to do. He was certain that Voldemort would find his drastic employment of the Greccas Trillium potion nothing less than delightfully extreme. In fact, Hadrian wouldn't put it past the wizard to allow him to keep ingesting doses, in a bid to discover a way to maintain his freedom, so that he could observe the consequences of long term magical poison on the body, mind and magic.

So, he answered with a question. "What kind of link is the connection, My Lord?" Hadrian's demand was soft but intent. "What power will it give you over me? What reason could you possibly have for going so far as to secure dominance over me when the Dar Mark has sufficed for years?"The questions came all a tumble, but they had been questions which had been plaguing him.

Voldemort stroked his wand as his stared at Hadrian. "You live your life as a mask. You breathe and sleep in countless webs of manipulation. You have honed your ability to be able to judge others within seconds; however, you've never had to play politics and lies with those who know your real face."

Hadrian felt a dawning realisation begin in his thoughts but the Dark Lord hadn't finished.

"I know you are talented. I know that you are intelligent. I know that you are dark..." The Dark Lord stepped forward, now two steps away. "I didn't underestimate you. You underestimated me."

Hadrian staggered backwards, eyes wide, staring at the man before him; horrified.

"Sweet Darkness," Hadrian breathed. "A lesson, you're teaching me a lesson."The words were disbelieving. "No, that doesn't make sense." He shook his head. It was too permanent a state to justify that reason only.

Voldemort smiled with satisfaction, as if he had passed some sort of test. "Indeed. I grant you, Mr Walker, that I saw a need to demonstrate to you the possible pitfalls of your mask, however, I do have an ulterior motive for such a connection between us."

Hadrian stared at the man waiting for him to continue, but he didn't. "Well?" Hadrian demanded. "Why?"

Crimson glanced at him sharply in warning. "Please, Walker, you should understand more than anyone the thrill of being the only one who knows the whole picture. If I gave you all of the answers, well, let's just say that I have a reason for wanting you to figure it out for yourself." The Dark Lord raised an eyebrow at Hadrian's blatant disbelief.

Despite the man's words, Hadrian was certain that Lord Voldemort did indeed underestimate him. He understood the Dark Lord's intended 'lesson', he thought with a sneer; he too was susceptible to manipulations. It was so obvious to him when Draco, his peers, Narcissa..._everybody,_every person who believed his persona tried to influence him. Their manipulations and lies were so easy to catch because they aimed and crafted their webs for his masks capabilities.

He knew this. Hadrian had appreciated it as a positive of his mask.

Nevertheless, he disagreed. He fully believed that he could outmanoeuvre almost anyone, after all, he'd had practice with the high European politics without his mask and he hadn't stumbled. No. The difference this time was the he was dealing with the Dark Lord.

Tom Riddle was anything but ordinary and he had never battled with a person of Voldemort's calibre. And despite his smug demeanour, Hadrian realised that Riddle was playing hard. And that meant only one thing. You didn't go all out unless you felt you needed to.

The thought intrigued him, Hadrian wasn't sure if the Dark Lord had even realised the incriminating evidence of his own actions.

By taking such drastic measures, in a twisted, cruel way, Riddle was saying that Hadrian was worth the effort; that his skills and abilities were of a level to be treated with some consideration.

Pleased with the realisation Hadrian forced himself to acknowledge that while that may indeed be true, Voldemort seemed to still be humouring him. And, despite what he said, that showed that the Dark Lord did underestimate him.

It annoyed and pleased him to know this. It annoyed because despite his wish to maintain complete control of his own freedom, recognition from a wizard of the Dark Lord's character would be...telling. Still, if he did underestimate him then Hadrian might just have a chance to pull off his plan. That Hadrian might have a workable method to sever such an archaic connection between them; he could clearly see that Voldemort didn't really believe him capable of it.

He was merely intrigued that he had staved off the completion of the link for this long, like a master pleased with his dog for having more intelligence than he had initially thought.

He had no idea yet what the nature of the link was but Lord Voldemort was simply too cunning and lacking in remorse for Hadrian to ever allow himself to do anything than expect the worst. And considering he wasn't willing to live with a situation that was the best case scenario, Hadrian was willing to do anything to get out of this bind.

Hadrian stared into silent crimson with cautious acceptance.

"Why did you follow me outside, My Lord?" Hadrian asked guardedly, trying to steer the conversation away from their current topic. Riddle's underestimation of him was the only thing buying him his much needed time right now. "I can't see you leaving your guests for just this discussion; as good as it was of you to put my mind at ease." He smiled sarcastically, pushing aside his anger; as he discreetly rubbed the now slow burn in his palm.

One eyebrow lifted. "Uncomfortable, Walker?" Crimson eyes dropped lazily to where his thumb was rhythmically stroking his palm, and smirked as Hadrian abruptly stopped. "Interesting how your mind immediately thinks yourself to be the focus of my attention, you may have simply stumbled across me."

Despite the embarrassment the man had no doubt intended to engender in him Hadrian wasn't fooled.

He widened his eyes in mock surprise. "I apologise for my presumption, My Lord. I had no idea that you were such an avid gardener. Your earlier comment about the stars must have misled me. Please, excuse me, I'll go back to the manor at once and let you return to your poignant perusal of the flowers."

Hadrian took pleasure in the annoyed disgust that curled the man's mouth at his words, congratulating himself for successfully turning his attention from his burning hand, and promptly spun on his heel to begin walking back to the party.

Sharp nails dug into his waist, roughly spinning him around and pinning him in place.

"You were able to seize the final word the last time we met, Mr Walker, however, tonight you will not. It seems that you may not be willing to 'breathe' just yet, in the sense that you will prolong your battle against our connection and I will accept that. It is your nature to fight. One I admire. So I will let you have your fun. Just know that I will have what I want in the end, Hadrian. I always do."

The man was too close.

Hadrian looked up.

The Dark Lord's hard, tall, lean body was pressed intimately against his own.

"As you so astutely pointed out, I did have another reason for seeking your presence tonight." Hadrian ignored the increased heat that was beginning to encompass his wrist. "I am impressed by your control over your persona, Hadrian. Nevertheless, it has done nothing but solidify my opinion that you are wasted hiding as you are. A war is starting..."

Hadrian could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest as the man's hissing voice spoke to him calmly. Both of their breath's visible in the cold air and small space surrounding and separating them.

"I will win this war, Walker. You no longer need to hide your strength, your darkness. You will be valued by the Dark..."

Voldemort's crimson eyes were blazing with power and passion as he spoke of the war about to be launched. There was an eagerness there that surprised Hadrian, but not half as shocking as feeling his own substantial thrill heighten.

Seducer indeed, Hadrian reflected internally, appreciating the man's skill as only another manipulator truly could. He had no doubt that that the Dark Lord's obvious passion was genuine but the way it had been called to the surface and had brightened those blood coloured orbs of utmost control...

The Dark Lord's words tapered off as he read Hadrian's undeniable knowledge in his dull verdant eyes.

Lord Voldemort's mouth slowly pulled into a small, dark grin as he leaned his head down so their bodies were even closer.

Hadrian stiffened, suddenly recalling exactly what his unexpected apparition had stopped from happening the last time they had been this close.

How did this man affect him as he did? He wasn't lacking in experience but never before had he reacted...the man was intoxicating.

Warm breath blew gently against his mouth and Hadrian's muscles tightened to an almost painful degree but those hands never faltered in their task, keeping his body still and captive.

The Dark Lord's lips were inches away now, crimson; bright as they stared down at him intently; calculating. "I look forward to finding out exactly how much you've been holding back, Hadrian Walker..."

Then, his lips were claimed.

Dark magic swirled around them as those sharp nails pierced the expensive red fabric of his robes, grasping his waist tightly; the pressure almost painful.

At least, Hadrian would have realised it was painful if he had been able to think beyond the all encompassing blazing desire and emotion flaring in him at the feel of those smirking lips against his own.

It wasn't a long kiss, or a deep one.

That's what scared him.

The Dark Lord had simply pressed his lips against Hadrian's...and it was the best kiss he had ever had.

It was the intensity of the flaming emotions storming through him that had Hadrian ripping his mouth away from Voldemort's.

The Dark Lord didn't protest and let Hadrian end the kiss seconds after he had just initiated it. The man regarded him silently for a long moment before he released Hadrian's waist and stepped back.

"I will not allow you to hide behind your mask for much longer, Walker."

The man's serious declaration echoed behind him as he melted gracefully into the shadows of one of the maze's paths; returning to the ball.

Hadrian breathed out slowly. His emotions calming.

That kiss.

That promise.

His eyes widened and a huge grin split his face.

Of course.

...

_Hey! I'm Back! I hope you all liked this chapter. I really enjoyed the way Hadrian's beginning to think that Voldemort views him in some sort of sick 'pet' fascination way. The question is, are you right, Hadrian? (EVIL GRIN)_

_Thanks for sticking with me, everyone, and please! Review and tell me what you think, it would be awesome to hear from you again! ;D_


	19. Champagne?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

...

Draco huffed.

Great Merlin! Had Walker always been this slippery and hard to keep track of?

The blonde had realised about twenty minutes ago that Hadrian had, again, disappeared from his side.

A delicate, crystal flute filled to the brim with gently bubbling golden liquid was suddenly hovering in front of him.

"Champagne?" A smooth, masculine voice murmured into his ear softly.

Blaise.

Draco's lips pulled up at the corners as he raised his hand and took the offered drink.

"...Thank-you, it's exactly what I felt like." He raised the chilled crystal to his lips, taking a small sip.

A low chuckle rumbled quietly from behind him. "That I can believe. Where's the Mud-blood?"

The Malfoy heir just groaned and swallowed a third of the alcohol he was holding in one gulp.

"Good Evening."

The familiar amused greeting had Draco taking another sip, focusing his mind on the enjoyable way the liquid bubbled against the roof of his mouth as he swallowed.

"I'm surprised to see you by yourself, Cartus. I would have thought that you would spend the night unable to escape your admirers." Blaise broke the silence, his lips thin.

Draco watched as the attractive Demetri Cartus smiled charmingly at his friend. "You overestimate my popularity, Mr Zabini, I assure you. Gabriel is the one unable to escape his thick ring of followers."

Draco's eyes drifted in the direction that the Russian wizard was pointing to with laughing eyes, feeling his own mercury coloured ones widen as the truth of Cartus's statement became clear. Blaise's body tensed beside his in annoyance but once Draco actually thought about it, he wasn't really surprised. Dalton, besides his impressive reputation, status and looks was also at an age where marriage and betrothals were decided. Looking at the evenly split genders surrounding the gorgeous French man Draco wondered idly whether his sexual preference was known or not.

The Cartus heir's words quickly brought his thoughts back to the present.

"I simply spotted Hadrian arriving with Mr Malfoy and wished to greet my friend properly. It has been quite some time since I have seen him." There was a wealth of seriousness and genuine concern in Cartus's eyes as he spoke, all humour gone.

Draco's mood plummeted at the reminder of the Malfoy ward's walk-about status. "I thought that you and Walker were just casual acquaintances." Draco questioned with a frown, trying not to think about how much trouble he was going to be in if either of his parents found out.

The Russian wizard grinned disarmingly, something Draco noted with suspicion and brushed off. "We are, Malfoy. However, he has just gone through quite an adjustment and I wish to make certain that he is handling the change adequately." He confirmed, his tone and words crafted to seem like the quintessential throw away comment.

"That is very considerate of you." Draco smiled coldly. Cartus was not merely enquiring, his worry for Walker was making that obvious. He was genuinely concerned. "He's not with me. It appears that Walker enjoys irritating me to premature greyness." Draco rolled his eyes skyward before lifting his glass to his lips and tipping the whole two thirds back and swallowing the alcohol smoothly.

"How are you enjoying having Hadrian around your Manor, Malfoy?" Demetri asked casually, ignoring the Malfoy heir's tenseness easily.

"It's different." Draco answered carefully.

"I'm sure it is." The mocking words had Blaise's eyes narrowing on the figure coming towards their group. Golden eyes and dirty blonde hair tied back at the nape of his neck had him clenching his fists in dislike.

"Julian!" Demetri grinned. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"I wasn't. But there was some last minute change of plans." He reassured the Russian wizard.

Blaise followed Julian's distracted gaze with reluctant interest. His peculiar golden eyes were focused on the half drunk female leaning heavily against the Dalton heir. Blaise felt some sympathy for the unenviable position of Dalton, before looking back at Clifton. There was a strange emotion that he couldn't identify swimming in those orbs.

"So, did I hear right? Hadrian's nowhere to be found?" Julian asked abruptly.

Draco suppressed a sneer of contempt at the other's lack of decorum but nodded his head silently in answer.

"I'm sure he'll turn up." Julian laughed harshly. "He always does."

Draco didn't pay attention to the simple conversation taking place between Blaise and Cartus. There had been a lot of bitterness in Clifton's voice just now and it caught his attention. Any information that might unravel Walker was appreciated. Julian Clifton's body language was edgy. Not with nerves, Draco decided, but annoyance. The dirty haired blonde was shifting constantly from foot to foot. He was like a spring wound too tight, wanting to go off.

"Really?" Draco inquired. "I hadn't known that it was a trait so connected with him."

Cliffton's lips curled inward, his eyes still fluttering between them and whatever had him so interested in the space behind them. "No, I wouldn't expect you to know, Mr Malfoy, after-all, one has to be interested enough in a person in order to notice their habits, correct?"

Draco's eyes narrowed minutely as he found himself, for what felt like the millionth time, cursing his inattentiveness and complete lack of knowledge concerning Walker. Nevertheless, he inclined his head slightly in agreement. "True, Mr Cliffton, my lack of attention in regards to my classmate has been woefully remiss. A situation which I am optimistically hopeful will be resolved soon enough, especially considering our close quarters." He couldn't help but add, hating the knowing glint in the other's golden eyes.

"Hmm," Cliffton's attention finally seemed mostly focused on their little group, "Yes...I can see how six years worth of dorm living might not quite equal the 'close quarters' that manor living and separate assigned wings might afford."

Draco stiffened at the blatant insult and could feel Blaise doing the same at his side. It was only the loud sound of Cartus's uncomfortable cough which stopped him from retaliating. As it was, he settled with an arctic stare.

"Alright...well," The conversation at an end, Cartus clearly wanted to make a parting remark and leave, but kept shooting Cliffton unsure looks.

Suddenly, a wide, face splitting grin was plastered across Cliffton's face. "Demetri! It's fine!" He stressed the word unnecessarily, "The little pureblood heir knows that I was only joking, right Malfoy? You're not put off by a little teasing, are you?"

Draco desperately wished to hex off that too wide grin in a way that would leave the other in no doubt as to how this, little pureblood heir, felt about his 'joking' comment. Unfortunately, no matter how uncivilised the mainland purebloods thought him, Draco was well aware of his polite responsibilities here. So, he let a thin smile spread across his lips and muttered a quiet, "Certainly."

"We should probably get going." Cartus stated firmly as he moved to take his friend's elbow in his hand, clearly prepared to forcibly steer him away if he had to.

"Does Hadrian take Arithmacy?" Clifton asked Draco and Blaise abruptly. The question had come out of nowhere and seemed to throw all three off, including Demetri Cartus if the frozen hand and unhidden incredulity he was staring at his friend with was anything to go by.

Blaise frowned openly, not afraid to flaunt social etiquette and show the dirty blonde exactly how unhinged he thought he was.

"What?" Draco snapped in annoyance. Shouldn't Cliffton know the answer to his own inane question as a friend of Walker's? Why was he bothering them with this!

"I'm just asking if you know whether Hadrian takes Arthimacy at Hogwarts?"

"Yeah, he does, barely passing the subject, in fact." Blaise drawled. "Cartus," He bowed his head slightly, "Draco and I have to go speak with someone but it..."

"Amazing, isn't it?" Cliffton smoothly interrupted, seemingly uncaring of his rude and offensive behaviour. Draco glared. "Hadrian, _failing_...!" He slowly shook his head from side to side. Looking away from where golden orbs had again drifted to Gabriel Dalton and his admirers, he pointed to the Russian wizard beside him with a bitter half smile curling his lips. "Demetri here comes from a family of wand crafters and is fantastic at Arithmacy." Julian chuckled softly. "Surprising, isn't it? That Hadrian never took advantage of his friend's knowledge. You would think that he might have thought to ask for Demetri's help in a subject he's _barely_ passing."

Draco sneered at the emotional wizard with open distain, a disturbed look in his eyes. Still, no matter how crazy the receptacle, the words were thought provoking. Another riddle to be answered another question to be added to the ever increasing list of Walker's enigmatic qualities.

"Julian..." Cartus gave a forced laugh, his eyes alarmed, as he reached over to lay a calming hand on his friend's shoulder.

Cliffton just gave a raspy chuckle, devoid of any real humour "Hadrian is _barely_ passing Arithmacy..."Julian gave a bark of laughter. "That _is_ perplexing." His serious words were mocking.

"Julian...!" Cartus was scowling darkly at his friend now, but Cliffton didn't seem to give it any particular notice. In fact, he promptly and unapologetically cut his Russian friend off.

Draco couldn't help but all of a sudden appreciate the loud atmosphere of the cavernous ball room. Nobody beyond the four of them would ever overhear this appalling breakdown.

"Demetri! Don't you think hearing about Hadrian practically failing something is the most _hilarious_ thing you've ever heard?" Julian laughed.

"I'm afraid that I don't see your point, Mr Cliffton." Draco stated coldly, unimpressed by the man's unseemly loss of composure.

"_Ah_, but you _see_ Mr Malfoy, the fact that you _can't_ see my point is what makes this all so _terribly_ _amusing_. The thought of Hadrian Walker actually _failing_ something! Perish the thought!"

"I'm glad to see that your friend's hardship is so amusing to you, Julian."

Draco followed the cold, unemotional voice back and found himself staring into familiar, dull emerald eyes.

Cliffton's unstable amusement seemed to slowly leech away as he turned slowly and stared silently into Hadrian's orbs.

"Draco. Your Mother sent me to find you."

If there was any emotion in Walker's voice it was impossible to decipher. Still, a small part of Draco's thoughts reminded him that the perfect control that Walker was currently exhibiting was just as telling as an emotional breakdown would have been.

"She said that's it time to leave."

After-all, Hadrian had just overheard one of his friends basically bad-mouthing him; for all that Draco wasn't able to understand. It was a level of control and poise Malfoy hadn't known Walker possessed. Still, as surprised as he was by the controlled manner of the Malfoy ward, his behaviour didn't outright astonish him as it would have done just a fortnight ago.

"Of course." Draco announced after a prolonged moment.

While he was learning to expect, to a certain degree, the unexpected from Walker he wasn't any closer to unravelling him.

"Oh! Boys! I'm so glad I managed to catch you in time!" The unexpected jovial exclamation immediately claimed all of their attention.

Draco quickly straightened his robes and plastered a small, yet, pleased smile on his thin lips when he realised exactly who was grinning widely at the five of them.

"Minister Lustag." Blaise murmured a formal greeting as he bowed to the man.

The German Minister let out a loud belly laugh, his round, plump cheeks flushed pink from the copious amounts of alcohol he had no doubt consumed this evening.

"And you too, lad!" He drained his deep wine glass, setting it unsteadily on a passing waiter's silver platter. "I had not been sure whether my eyes were deceiving me; I was all the way across the hall! Anyway," He sucked in a deep breath, his large body clearly giving him problems. "I thought that I had seen Mr Cartus and Mr Cliffton with you two fine gentlemen." Draco was certain that Kale Lustag had absolutely no idea who either Blaise or he was, but went along with his bumbling with a practised sound of interest. The man was in a powerful political position for all his lack of ability, after-all.

"Your eyes did indeed not deceive you Mr Lustag, I can assure you of that." Demetri Cartus smoothly cut off the wizards ramblings with a subtle interjection.

"Was there something you were looking for or wished to ask in particular, Minister?" Draco steered the intoxicated man back on track when he looked ready to launch into an enormous tangent.

The short, balding wizard puffed up. "Yes! Cartus, where is that intriguing friend of yours? You know, he and the Dalton heir are normally joined at the hip at these types of functions!" The portly man demanded with a gruff, put-off tone.

Demetri smiled disarmingly. "Well, you see Minister..."

"Somewhere you have to be, Hadrian?" Julian's loud words were asked mockingly with a sardonic grin spread across his mouth.

Draco's eyes snapped round.

Walker, it seemed, had been about to make an escape. Draco scowled at the realisation that if Cliffton hadn't pointed it out the wizard would have melted into the surrounding crowd with him none the wiser.

Walker slowly turned back around and smiled a small smile as he pierced the dirty haired blonde with unafraid, dull emerald orbs.

...

It was with his blood still singing in his veins and his lips tingling from the overwhelming memory of what had moments ago been pressing dominatingly against them, that Hadrian's mind had clicked into place.

All those books and countless hours of intense research with nothing to show for it; the lack of information hadn't been the issue. He had been approaching the problem in the wrong way. The amulet projected, yes; however, the answer was not ever going to be found in a way to force it to look inwards.

It was like he had been desperately climbing up a cliff-face looking for a specific type of foothold that just didn't exist. The footholds he was searching for existed in streams, up waterfalls, in the presence of water; but not in a terrain without liquid, not in the type of magic he was dealing with.

Creature magic.

Not wizarding magic.

It was such a simple, yet, crucial distinction. Wizards considered all magical creatures and their power beneath their own so they hadn't bothered to create spells that would allow a wizard to harness or use another species magic. In the past, if wizards came upon an interesting aspect of creature magic, like a vampire's agility and speed, they created potions that would mimic the effect. Astrid had been correct when she drew parallels between the Imperius curse and sirens power to entice and confuse; it had been wizarding magic trying to imitate the creatures' innate power.

He knew the runes he needed to change the amulet from outer to inner projection. For the past day he had been agonising over the sequence knowing that he was missing something but unable to see what.

The siren rune.

Runes were the written form of magic. The most accurate translation, if you will. Within that one rune, the entirety of a sirens basic qualities was encapsulated; their charm, danger, cunning, loyalty and beauty. It was so simple. But it hadn't ever been done before, to his knowledge. Wizards were content with spells and potions that mimicked other creature's unique powers. Too bad Hadrian needed the pure and potent siren power that would only be found in the original.

Feeling lighter and more energised than he had in weeks, Hadrian briskly made his way back towards the party. Defiantly ignoring the way his mouth was still tingling and the charge in the air around him.

His feet were quick as his mind formulated possible actions to get him where and what he wanted. And what he wanted right now was to leave this insipid gathering and return to Malfoy Manor so that he could start to adjust his rune sequence.

As Hadrian shut the glass door behind him and began to scan the hundreds, almost thousand, faces in the ball room a thought occurred to him. Before he could stop himself, a dark smirk of pleasure was stretching across his lips.

Oh, the irony.

If the Dark Lord hadn't played on his propensity to discard the obvious solution as too simple, as he had tonight, the answer to the amulet wouldn't have come to him in the landslide of clarity it had.

While he expertly altered his features into a much more acceptable emotion of innocence and naiveté the delightful irony continued to be a source of internal glee.

No, Hadrian's inner smirk broadened, Lord Voldemort had been extremely helpful.

Hadrian's dull green eyes focused on his target amongst the sea of faces and he started forward.

It was with a sense of bitter reluctance that he realised that dwelling on the handsome Dark Lord, despite the gratifying irony, was undermining his iron determination to ignore what had happened between them. There was a brief moment, when his steps faltered, that the door holding back his emotions from that kiss opened a crack. Anger at the man's sheer audacity, fury at the way his own body had reacted, cold suspicion concerning the man's motives and confusion for the maelstrom such a simple action had sparked within him.

He shoved away the creeping invasion on his thoughts with a defiance flamed by bitter and confused denial. He would deal with what had happened later. Right now, all he could think about was getting back to Malfoy Manor and beginning the chain of magic and final calculations that would allow him to escape the shackles that had been slowly tightening around him.

"Lady Malfoy," Hadrian interrupted the group of softly conversing ladies smoothly. He hadn't hesitated before he spoke; instead, not wishing to waste the time, he had watched them carefully as he approached. None had seen him. They would be unaware that he hadn't 'agonised' over interrupting them.

Cold blue eyes looked at him in veiled surprise. "Yes, Hadrian?"

Hadrian noted the way she swiftly scanned his body, looking for any possible injuries her husband might have left, he guessed coolly. It was with cold detachment and calm that Hadrian remembered the earlier incident with Lucius Malfoy.

In fact...he let his eyes swiftly sweep the twenty or so ladies in Lady Malfoy's group, all of them silently watching him. He was anxious and rushing to leave this political and social zoo as soon as humanly possible that was the truth.

Still, being who he was, doing what he did; honed opportunistic instincts simply weren't capable of passing up such a uniquely exploitable set of circumstances. Anyway, he justified with an internal grin, if anything, his actions would be sure to hurry his 'family' up.

Hadrian Walker was far from weak and wasn't someone to be preyed on lightly. Lucius Malfoy would be aware of that small fact soon, whether he believed it intentional or not was irrelevant; he couldn't know for sure.

"Um...I'm very sorry to interrupt you... " Hadrian stuttered a bit and watched some of the iciness of the other ladies thaw. "But, I'm not feeling very well."

A complete fabrication but he wasn't willing to waste any more time at this party when the answer to his freedom had been exposed.

"And Draco isn't with you?"

Ah yes, his chaperone.

"I didn't want to bother him." Hadrian leaned in, as if his words were of a sensitive nature but kept his volume level so those around them could clearly overhear. "I didn't want to go to Lord Malfoy because, well...you know, he gets so angry at me and I didn't want what happened just before we came to the party to happen again."

There were more ways than one to repay debts of such nature. He had learnt that lesson very early in life.

Hadrian sensed the uncomfortable realisations of those surrounding them with pleased satisfaction. They may be the wives of Dark Wizards or powerful Dark Witches themselves with questionable moral boundaries that come with the territory, but abuse of a child and someone significantly weaker was still frowned upon.

Narcissa's face froze as she realised the almost two dozen ladies had overheard Hadrian's words and obvious meaning. Then she tried to get rid of him as quickly as possible. However, unless she wanted to look as if she condoned her husband's abuse, abuse that would undoubtedly reach the Dark Lord's ears, she would have to take him back to the Manor.

"Yes, yes, Hadrian." Narcissa conceded quickly. "Run along and tell Draco to meet us in the Entrance Hall."

"Thank-you, Lady Malfoy. I'm sorry that I'm such a bother, I'll try to do better." Hadrian had to poke his tongue against his teeth to pull off one of the most convincing remorseful faces he had ever sported as he cowered and left.

That last comment had been a small dose of what he owed Narcissa. It had been Lucius's conduct tonight that he wasn't able to let lye so easily.

The Dark Lord wouldn't be pleased that his orders had been disregarded, by one of his inner circle Death Eaters no less.

As Hadrian weaved his way through the bodies he could hear Narcissa frantically trying to do damage control behind him.

Now, where was the blonde ferret?

Hadrian had known, the moment he glimpsed the figures making up such an unlikely quartet, that something was off.

There was a feeling.

And then he saw their expressions.

Zabini: disgusted. Malfoy: Reluctantly interested. Demetri: stunned, with the beginnings of panic. And Julian: Frustrated, angry, uncontrolled and eons away from feeling the hilarity his face was showing.

Then he heard them, and his blood ran cold.

"Demetri! Don't you think hearing about Hadrian practically failing something is the most _hilarious_ thing you've ever heard?" Julian laughed.

"I don't see your point, Mr Cliffton." Malfoy's face was pinched as he spoke coldly, reminiscent of his Father.

Hadrian's eyes narrowed. What the hell was going on?

"_Ah_, but you _see_ Mr Malfoy, the fact that you _can't_ see my point is what makes this all so _terribly_ _amusing_. The thought of Hadrian Walker actually _failing_ something! Perish the thought!"

"I'm glad to see that your friend's hardship is so amusing to you Julian." Hadrian stepped up, eyes dark and cold; betraying nothing.

...

The German Minister of Magic was one of a very few that had dealt with his real persona. While he wasn't worried that Lustag would figure out his mask, the two Slytherins standing quietly off to the side, taking everything in, knew that he was friends with Demetri, Gabriel and...Julian. One carefully placed comment was all it would take from the Minister for even them to be able to connect dots he didn't want connected.

The short, balding wizard puffed up. "Yes! Cartus, where is that intriguing friend of yours? You know, he and the Dalton heir are normally joined at the hip at these types of functions!" The portly man demanded, his speech slurred with wine consumption.

Hadrian honed in on the fury that was suddenly dancing across Julian's face with narrowed eyes.

Demetri smiled disarmingly. "Well, you see Minister..."

Hadrian abruptly decided to leave and wait for Malfoy in the Entrance Hall, the blonde would, at some time or other, finally look around and realise where Hadrian had probably gone. He had bigger things to worry about than Julian's temper tantrum and had confidence that Demetri would be able to control Kale Lustag.

Hadrian had no intention of testing fate by sticking around the loose-lipped German. If any person were to mention his name by calling him, it might easily provoke the drunken Minister to blurt out in a great bellow of joviality that he was looking for a wizard of the exact same name.

His former good mood utterly destroyed he turned, seconds away from melting safely into the crowd surrounding him.

"Somewhere you have to be, Hadrian?"

He had been in the process of moving when Julian's loud, innocent sounding voice had called out to him. Breathing deeply through his nose, Hadrian turned back.

He had been moving fast and with an urgency ever since he'd come in from the maze. His body was exhausted; he could already feel the small tingles in his hand that told him the Greccas Trillium potion was wearing off as he knew it would, due to the Dark Lord's proximity tonight.

Even though he had figured out the impossible, a way to thwart Lord Voldemort, Hadrian was still facing the repercussions of poisoning his body and dealing with the possibility that once he was able to see the connection, in the end, there may not be a way for him to escape it.

He had wanted to let himself trust Demetri to be able to handle this because, right now, his mind was somewhere else.

But, whatever this was with Julian, whatever was setting his idiotic friend off was just as important, he realised. It just wasn't something he ever thought he would have to deal with.

"Hadrian!" The German Minister crowed loudly, "Your name's Hadrian? No, that can't be right, you're..."

Hadrian spun around fully and smiled a grin full of teeth at Kale Lustag.

"Minister, I've heard that congratulations are in order, Mrs Killian was just telling me that your son is marrying his high-school sweetheart!" Hadrian had received some very sensitive information from several of his contacts four months ago. He had been saving the useful information for a worthier and far more profitable time, however, plans change.

The inebriated man actually seemed to gain some of his lucidity back at the mention of his estranged son and heir. "What? Boy...speak-up!" He exclaimed angrily.

From the corner of one eye, Hadrian saw the displeased twist to Julian's mouth and the Malfoy heir's riveted gaze switching from the other. Perfect. He needed to hurry this up.

His happy grin widened to increase the expression's genuineness as he launched into a calculated ramble or information and fake enthusiasm. "Oh, yes! I must say, I was extremely pleased and, yet, surprised to hear that you had accepted the match wholeheartedly! After-all, the girl is muggleborn! Still! Can't stop progress! Something I am immensely grateful for as a muggleborn myself."

The foreign minister spluttered incoherently, totally preoccupied with the information that would be his political death, before letting out a giant yell of outrage and stomping away as he called loudly for his wife. The Hadrian Walker he knew was the farthest thing from his mind.

The party was so loud at this point that small squabbles among the closer to nine hundred guests, not the estimated half thousand number, were all being ignored.

A thankful fact.

The large grin slipped slowly from Hadrian's face.

He wouldn't forget what Julian had forced him to do tonight.

But he still had to deal with the confused looks on Malfoy and Zabini's faces. And judging by Julian's slowly reddening expression, that hole Cliffton was digging under himself was about to get a lot deeper. Having no other choice but to go with the theatrical, Hadrian caught Demetri's eye and nodded minutely.

Julian collapsed in a heap, the silent stunning spell from behind catching him unawares. The Russian wizard stepped forward, making a show of returning his wand to his pocket.

"Wh...What the hell?" Blaise exclaimed, looking at Demetri in shock. He quickly regained control. "Do you often knock your friends out from behind, Cartus?" Zabini asked coolly.

Demetri grinned roguishly, "Only when I can get away with it."

Hadrian clenched his teeth tightly shut as a particularly sharp feeling of pain sliced at the joint of his shoulder. Merlin! He thought furiously, as if he didn't have enough problems as it was.

"You can't be serious!" Blaise's shock was back it seemed.

Hadrian rolled his eyes, safe in the knowledge that no one was observing him right now, despairing at the lack of intelligence his housemate possessed.

"Zabini, I think that was Cartus's idea of a joke. You know? As in not, actual reality?" Daphne Greengrass deadpanned, smoothly injecting herself into the conversation with a significant look to her suddenly sheepish male friend.

Fuck! This was too much! Hadrian decided in exasperation. Coming to a decision, Hadrian turned sharply on his heel, letting his eyes scan the enormous crowd in front of him.

Ah, there.

Surrounded by fans on all sides Gabriel seemed to sense his gaze on him almost immediately. With a small smile that no one but those who knew him best would be able to spot, Gabriel's eyes locked with this own masked dull green.

Hadrian saw the momentary disappointment in the young man's eyes at the lack of his real brilliant verdant orbs but, with the slightest indication of his head Gabriel got the message.

"Hadrian?" Demetri's inquiry was cut off by a sharp glance from him. He was not in the mood.

Taking the time to make sure Gabriel was indeed delivering his excuses and making his way over to them as subtly as he could manage; Hadrian turned his eyes back to the groaning figure in Demetri's arms that was slowly waking up.

It wasn't that Demetri wasn't capable of handling Julian; it's just that Gabriel could do it better. Not the least of which was because the werewolf was in love with the French wizard.

Now to explain the drastic 'stunning' action. It had been a quick and efficient way to shock the Slytherins into hopefully forgetting about Kale Lustag knowing Hadrian's name and what that connection would mean. He didn't need the childish ambitions of his housemates; to 'uncover' the 'mystery' that was him by talking to someone who had only ever dealt with his real physical self.

It was over the top and seemingly extreme and he would need an explanation that was just as petty and foolish to justify the action.

"I thought Julian was getting over the break-up?" Hadrian inquired softly.

He could see Malfoy watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye as he settled a subtly pointed look on Demetri's mildly confused features.

It was a humiliating excuse that he was conjuring for Julian's behaviour, humiliating in the sense that it was partly true. But Hadrian truly couldn't give a damn about his friend's pride right now. In fact, he was having a pretty hard time even thinking of the sandy haired blonde in anyway right now.

"Yeah,...not really." Demetri said slowly.

Zabini's eyebrows went up, "You're kidding! He was acting like that, all over a bad break-up? How pathetic!" He stated disgustedly.

"Couldn't agree more." Hadrian muttered coldly, under his breath.

Julian wasn't exactly coherent yet but he soon would be, Hadrian observed as the werewolf attempted to push Cartus's steadying arms away from him.

"Right," Hadrian stated, watching intently as Julian's head snapped up at the sound of his voice.

...

There was a stilted and artificial quiet in the air; the drastic change in atmosphere too rapid to be anything but awkward and obvious.

The Malfoy heir watched the long, silent look exchanged between Walker and Cliffton with interest. Then those unreadable eyes shifted over to him, obviously checking whether he was ready to go.

"Hadrian..." Cartus called weakly.

"I'll meet you in the Entrance foyer, Malfoy. You clearly wish to make your goodbyes." Walker stated sharply, ignoring the Russian wizard. The Malfoy ward's face was completely blank; if he was in any amount of turmoil his features certainly weren't betraying him.

Hadrian ignored Demetri's soft plea as he spoke to Draco, the Cartus heir was pleading understanding for Julian, not himself.

Had Julian honestly been jeopardising his mask? It seemed impossible. Julian knew what he had gone through in order to have such a disguise. Yet, Hadrian had heard the other first-hand.

Staring into those golden eyes, Hadrian faced the turbulence reflected back at him with cool stone.

Julian was angry.

Something they had in common.

There would be consequences for Julian's reckless actions and inability to keep a hold on his emotions and control. But first he would have to get to the bottom of the fuse Julian seemed to have become because whatever was going on with Julian, it left him feeling wary.

Giving gold one last searching look, a dark warning hidden in his eyes, he started towards the three metre entrance doors with Malfoy silent by his side.

Time was a precious thing when you lived on a countdown.

Passing through the open golden doors, a dark, lazy tendril of magic brushed across his lips.

He barely managed to hold in his gasp of shock.

Swiftly, he turned his neck to look back into the cavernous ball room, crowded with people, and met crimson.

Ruby.

Dark swirling red.

The irony.

...Hadrian smirked. Turned back around, and moved forward.

Powerful, dark magic brushed once more against his cheek; amused.

...

The entire house was asleep.

Except him. It wasn't that uncommon a situation anymore. The pain either kept him awake or he didn't let himself sleep longer than two-hour windows as he searched for the answer.

"Done." The exhausted, yet, pleased whisper echoed around the small library.

Not wasting any time, Hadrian pushed back the tall deep purple velvet chair and moved towards the large windows. With purpose he drew back the heavy maroon curtains to let the streaming moonlight filter into the space, particularly, the carpeted floor.

He would have preferred to have left the manor for a space far more private than within Malfoy wards but that annoying location tracker the Dark Lord had attached to the link wouldn't help. If anything it might induce the man to come see what he was up to this late at night. Hadrian didn't really believe that Lord Voldemort checked the spell/sensor/limits...whatever the tracker's specifications were, all that often but he couldn't take the chance.

He would rather be caught by the Malfoy's who had no idea what he was doing than stopped altogether by someone who might.

Reaching into his pocket he grasped the long, silver link chain tightly and brought the amulet up to suspend in the space before his eyes.

This had to work.

Because he wouldn't accept that it didn't.

He was no one's slave.

Crouching down, his back to the window, Hadrian laid the unassuming necklace in the shadow his body made amongst the silver light. With a wave of his wand a small obsidian stone dagger floated over from his work table and settled into his firm, but trembling grasp.

Did the bastard really have to kiss him of all things, tonight? Hadrian sneered exasperatedly as he turned the dagger in his hand trying to find a tighter grip and control the increasing shakes in his body from the pain.

At this point he would have even taken another dose of the potion just so he could do this blasted ritual competently without his head pounding to its own cavalry and that inescapable burning which only continued to get hotter. Unfortunately, he was already on his last dose.

Did the guy have to kiss him? Merlin, Mordred and Morgana, if the Dark Lord wasn't such a smug, know-it-all with personal boundary issues he might not be seeing two dangerously sharp daggers poised over two left wrists; both his.

Clenching his eyes shut, Hadrian grit his teeth against the pain, relegated it to a part of his mind to be ignored. It was unimportant. It didn't matter.

Focus.

Snapping his eyes open, a glowing brilliant emerald, the glamour broken under the stress his magic and body was feeling, ancient Druidic flowed from his lips like silk.

On and on the flowing sequences of poetic words called power and magic together in the small room. The air was getting heavier the silver moonlight growing in vibrancy around him.

Without cue, without fanfare, the flowing words abruptly silenced and the obsidian stone dagger ripped deeply across tender skin on Hadrian's left wrist.

Blood dripped with alarming steadiness onto the amulets stone. Taking his wand from his pocket, Hadrian coated the wood in his blood.

Then, he began to draw.

Six runes.

Six separate shapes.

Four simple, yet, intrinsically different from each other.

Some harsh, seemingly angry.

Others wide, lazy curls.

But the last two were very intricate and required more blood. Blood that glowed a luminous almost ominous red in the air.

Then, he was finished.

Collapsing back on the carpet, Hadrian stared unseeingly through the windows at the moon as his breathing slowed along with his heart.

His wrist was still bleeding. He needed to heal it before he slipped into the magical sleep which would allow him to view the connection in his mind. He now had the power to view, access and alter the connection's nature.

All this work would be a bit superfluous really if he bled out because he couldn't work up the energy to heal his bloody wrist.

"Impressive." The hiss was dark, intrigued and seductive. "Very impressive."

Abruptly, Hadrian's mind and body stilled. What was that about his heart starting to slow?

Hadrian gathered energy he didn't know he had and lifted himself up so he could lean his upper body against the wall under the glass windows.

With deep breaths, that action stripping him of everything he had left, Hadrian opened his own fatigued, hypnotising green orbs with a weak glare.

"It's already finished. There isn't anything you can do now. I will be changing whatever it is you've done to me." Hadrian wondered idly if he had said something so stupid in an effort to convince or remind himself of the truth of that magical fact, magical law, rather than to impart the information to the seemingly all-knowing Lord Voldemort.

Deep, dark chuckles emerged from the figure lounging lazily on a conjured leather armchair. A dangerously cruel smirk framed glowing white, perfect teeth in the shadowed corner. "I could kill you, Mr Walker. I would hardly constitute that as nothing."

"If you had wanted to kill me you would have already done it. As I can only imagine that my actions haven't caused you anger through my still living state, it stands to reason that you want something other than my death so long as I don't annoy you too much." Hadrian grimaced, hoping his less than coherent words sounded credible.

Because, he was fully aware that the Dark Lord was more than capable of murdering on a whim, reason or not, and the chance of Hadrian escaping such a fate if intended in his state was less than none.

Hadrian could feel his precious blood and strength continuing to leave him and he forced his sluggish mind to work and find a solution. He didn't have any magic left in order to perform the healing spell and it would be a cold day in hell before he even contemplated asking the Dark Lord to help him.

"Have you known? All this time?" Hadrian couldn't help but to ask the question. He blamed it on his darkening sight and pounding head.

Crimson eyes were bright with an excitement as they focused on him.

Tracing his features.

Taking in his bloody wrist without expression, merely, adding the injury to his mental catalogue of Hadrian's physical condition.

"Have I known exactly what you were going to do, or have I known that you were trying something?"

Hadrian somehow managed a glare.

"How could I have known what you would do, Mr Walker, if you did not know until this very evening? And no, I didn't read your thoughts. I simply used the power of correct deduction. That smug, triumphant glance over the shoulder tonight, I chose to view it as something more than mere bravado. Which, I can see, I was right in doing so."

Hadrian groaned internally, he didn't have many more moments before the ritual took full effect. As it was only his iron will was keeping him from slipping into the sleep.

"As for if I knew you were trying something, you know I did, Mr Walker. It is simply not in your character to give up. To not fight."

True. Hadrian had known as soon as the Dark Lord didn't pursue the reason why he wasn't incapacitated from the pain the connection would give him that Voldemort knew he was trying...something.

"I must admit though, this piece of magic you constructed and pulled off is nearly as impressive as your mask, Mr Walker." The Dark Lord murmured silkily as he gracefully rose from his chair.

His vision was getting darker, his body was slipping slowly to the right, unable to hold itself up even with the wall for support.

Merlin, he didn't want to enter the sleep with the Dark Lord right there. He couldn't stand the idea. He could hardly handle Raven seeing him at such times of weakness.

Unable to defend, unable to clearly think. It was a maddening hell.

But he needed to heal his wrist.

Hadrian was only able to hear now, his sight was gone. Or were his eyes closed? He couldn't tell.

"I would like to know where you got this magnificent magical artefact though. I've never come across its like before."

What if he released his rune? All his other glamours were broken; he knew they must be, he hadn't the necessary magic to sustain them. But he really didn't think he could lift his wand to the rune in order to unlock it.

He was nearly gone. But somewhere, in a place he wasn't inexhaustibly tired he still felt furious with his own weakness and failing.

Distantly, he felt cool breath floating across his face.

"Don't think I've forgotten about how you might have stopped the pain, Hadrian." Long fingers were carding through his lush black hair and he felt tingling warmth spread across the deep gash on his left wrist and a lessening of pain. He wasn't conscious enough to recognise the healing spell for what it was, let alone the individual who cast it.

"I shall be very displeased if I learn that you have harmed yourself in any way, Hadrian."

The powerful, possessive words were lost in a sea of unconsciousness. Deep in the recesses of his mind Hadrian felt a brief, fleeting knowledge of warmth as a pair of lips brushed softly against his own.

"Nobody harms what's mine, but me."

...

_Hey everyone! _

_I hoped you liked it. Hadrian's been so focused on this connection problem he's had to push other issues to the side when he otherwise wouldn't. Like Raven, furthering his own plans and politics, Julian, Hogwarts and, of course, the mark. _

_He's finally going to be able to function with a clear head again, well, relatively. But I want Hadrian to do some serious furthering of plans._

_And the Dark Lord, honestly, what does he know? ;D_

_Please review! I'd love to know how you all think it's going. :D_


	20. Turnabout's Fair Play

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

...

Entering his mind was like being hit with icy cold water.

His body's exhaustion could not touch him here and his mind instantly cleared cobwebs he hadn't realised until that moment were so thick.

Clarity returned to him.

Emotions which had riled in increasing strength were suddenly firmly grasped and the cloud of confusion they had wrought on his normally cool intellect exorcised.

He had known for days that he hadn't been thinking nearly as fast, or with anything close to the exceptional level of insightfulness he was used to. But he hadn't realised the extent to which everything had been affecting him until that very moment. Until he was free from both the magical and mental exhausted stress he had put his body through.

It didn't matter though.

There was no other way in which he could have acted to keep his freedom from the Dark Lord. And he didn't regret his actions for a moment.

He would deal with the repercussions of his addiction and the subsequent withdrawal in time. But first, he had something to find.

It was the most curious sensation. Logically, he knew that he couldn't have been travelling any distance; the laws of nature did not apply within the mind. Yet, it felt as though he was moving at faster speeds than he could ever hope to reach in the physical world. As any Occlumency Master would, Hadrian knew his mind intimately and with the merest brush of intent he was racing deeper into the very core of his being, the core of his magic.

And there it was.

A vividly red, glowing line of energy was floating within his magic, not yet connected.

Hadrian could see the barrier that the Greccas Trillium potion had provided now; it was a physical shield of green, mimicking the colour of his own magic.

And it was deteriorating alarmingly fast.

Acting like a magical battery the potion had made it so that Hadrian wouldn't be forced to complete the link. This had meant that the full effects of the connection hadn't yet come into effect and he had no intention of that ever happening.

He had to disable that crimson cord before the remaining pool of magic available to that cunning shield dried up.

With confidence, Hadrian grasped softly at the magical persuasion offered to him from Astrid's pendant and with care, directed the light violet magic to slowly and subtly begin to encase the pulsing red string.

Without warning, the incomplete connection flared brightly in agitation, somehow detecting the delicate movement of foreign magic. Despite himself, Hadrian couldn't help but be impressed with the sensitiveness of that small bit of the Dark Lord's magic.

To detect the light touch of a siren's influence this far away from its host?

The vast majority of magic users wouldn't have even detected the influence within their _own_ cores, let alone a small shred of power virtually disconnected from the main source.

Hadrian commanded the manipulative creature magic to calm and soothe the annoyed crimson and watched with satisfaction as the link calmed quickly.

Gathering the foreign magic that had been drained from the amulet and moulded through the runes he had constructed to obey his will; Hadrian narrowed his concentration and started to decode the connection.

It could have been a minute, an hour or even a day. Time didn't function in the same way within the confines of a person's consciousness. All Hadrian knew was that it took both an eternity and a blink of an eye before he had all the information he needed; and he was furious.

It was a bond of property.

Unlike a slave bond and to a lesser extent mentor bonds, it did not have express conditions of loyalty or loss of free will. No, the Dark Lord merely wanted to brand him.

Over his dead body.

This did explain why the location stipulation had made its presence known even with the connection incomplete, he realised with displeasure.

However, if the Dark Lord managed to complete the bond with him, all the other conditions that the link had 'told' the coercive violet magic about, those anyone would expect when they were the property of someone else would come into effect.

Anything major that he wanted to do, marry, leave Hogwarts, become a ward master! The bond would put him through agony until permission was sought from his owner and granted.

There was no way he could live with that. And he wouldn't have to, if it wasn't impossible to smirk when not actually possessing a physical body, that's what Hadrian would have been doing. Because, with his mind now clear, the solution seemed to practically jump out at him.

The bond radiated emotions of greed and possession, feelings that he could work with. Possession was the main and overwhelming characteristic so he wouldn't be able to nullify the location stipulation, no matter how seductive the siren magic.

The Dark Lord was far too stubborn to be able to completely alter the main driving force behind this invasion.

Nevertheless, with a certain amount of smug glee, he realised that because the bond wasn't complete, it also wasn't closed.

After-all, it was only fair that such knowledge of an individual's location work both ways.

He wanted this. He wanted to show the Dark Lord that although the man did indeed possess many times his experience, even he couldn't control everything. See every possible outcome.

Determined to have his way, Hadrian worked swiftly, yet, with a finesse and eye for detail that had always come naturally to him. Tweaking here and there, he finally managed to 'convince' the crimson cord that the location condition also included the information on the Dark Lord's position.

The other instructions, such as seeking any type of permission from his 'owner', were fuelled by lesser degrees of possession and greed.

With a will of absolute iron that brooked no failure, he demanded the straining violet magic to employ its full powers of persuasion to see his goal achieved.

Under the siren's clever manipulation, those raw, domineering emotions gradually mellowed.

Already stretched to its limits with banking the forceful feelings of a Dark Lord, Hadrian didn't care, and, without mercy, he demanded it do more.

Mellow sentiments became even more placid, and he watched with satisfaction, as the result of having no potent emotions to direct the bond's intended purpose caused the other stipulations to fade away.

That was when he felt it. The first stirrings of unease and suspicion, if that can even be conveyed via magic, within the link.

Acting quickly, he didn't hesitate.

With the emotions held at bay using the full powers of seduction available to the amulet, Hadrian swiftly gathered as much magic of his own that he could. Absolute control over his emotions and mind allowing not one shred of panic to fumble his sure actions.

Knowing that the siren's persuasion could bow to the foreign magic's mustering unease at any time; Hadrian _threw_ his magic through the fake physical barrier of the potion and watched as it connected with the crimson cord.

He felt the change immediately.

Emerald and red fused at the middle becoming an unbreakable link.

He wanted to laugh. That might be strange or abnormal in the circumstances but he certainly couldn't give a damn. He had managed to accomplish a feat most thought impossible.

Yes, the property bond was now complete just as Lord Voldemort had intended, but it was on Hadrian's terms.

Only the altered location stipulation had been in effect when he had thrown his magic forward and accepted the link. The only thing the Dark Lord would get out of its existence was that one condition, and now Hadrian had access to the same information in relation to the Dark Lord's location.

Turnabout's fair play, after all.

...

With a sharp crack, three figures materialised outside a charming shop-front. The three were all clearly male; and the middle form was struggling to escape the grasp that the other two had on each of his arms.

"Let me go! Let go of me, damn you!" The yells were angry and emotional but his two companions might as well have been deaf for all the good the words did.

"Julian, shut-up!" The one on the left finally seemed to have reached a point where he could no longer just ignore the other.

In comparison, the one on the right merely dropped the arm he was holding in a restraining grip and walked ahead of the other two. He proceeded to withdraw his wand and begin a complicated series of taps ending with a whispered word.

The click of the shop door seemed to galvanise the no longer restrained figure into action. Julian stalked forward and, grabbing the faded gold doorknob wrenched it open and disappeared inside.

"Well, Demetri? Aren't you coming in?" The figure which had calmly unlocked the door asked the exasperated man still standing in the middle of the street.

"Oh, no. I've had just about enough of Julian and whatever this...tantrum of his is about." The tall, dark haired man replied, his tone irritated and tired at the same time. "Besides," he sighed, "Hadrian clearly wants you to handle this." He added with a pointed look.

The other wizard was silent for a moment before he spoke, "What happened, Demetri?" He finally asked the question that he had burned to know since they had left the party.

"You're going to have to ask Cliffton that, because I honestly haven't the faintest idea." Demetri pushed a gloved hand through his hair, shaking the snow loose from the dark locks. "Gabriel..." he stopped suddenly and sent the other a beseeching look, "find out what's bugging him, please. Because after tonight, if he doesn't get his head on straight, _fast_..."He shook his head slowly, seemed to be gathering his words to say something. "...He almost gave Hadrian away tonight." He whispered.

His companion's lazy leaning position on the side of the still open door tensed as soon as those last words were said.

"What do you mean, 'almost'?" The words were as icy as the frozen landscape surrounding them.

"I mean, that Hadrian managed to distract the people that needed to be distracted in time. Julian was rambling and...he just wouldn't shut up about Hadrian! Before he could make any other damaging remarks, Hadrian stunned him and sidetracked the little slytherins with an appropriately juicy piece of gossip." He elaborated. His own distress and confusion clear.

Gabriel frowned, "Just what kind of things was Julian saying?" Was he trying to expose Hadrian on purpose, was the unspoken question.

Demetri heard the silent question and growled in frustration. "I don't know Gabriel! He was saying things that could lead others to questions that Hadrian certainly doesn't want them thinking, that's for sure. He didn't say anything outright, but if the right person had heard him and had enough information already, they might soon enough connect the dots."

In alarm, Gabriel took a step forward. "Who heard?!"

At this, Demetri seemed to calm slightly. "Just those slytherin classmates of his, thankfully, and they aren't capable of finding their own nose if someone told them it was missing, so I think we're safe for now."

"Why?" Gabriel murmured to himself.

The Russian wizard heard, "I have no fucking idea!" He threw his hands up in the air. "Julian was drinking at the party, but I know that Cliffton can hold his alcohol. No, if anything the drinks were just his liquid courage tonight."

Gabriel narrowed his blue eyes on the staircase just inside the open doorway. "Go home, Demetri. I'll talk to Julian."He said slowly. They might not see eye to eye on anything really, but they were both loyal to Hadrian, Demetri knew. So he felt comfortable enough leaving Gabriel to handle the volatile werewolf. "Do me a favour?" The French wizard asked.

Demetri just raised an eyebrow, too drained to even make the effort to tease the blonde about the Dalton heir needing a Cartus's help.

"Talk to your sister. She's never been Hadrian's biggest fan and I wouldn't want her revealing anything to anyone in her jealousy." He stared pointedly at the scowling Russian wizard. He knew Demetri was protective of his sister but this wasn't up for negotiation.

Cartus nodded his head once in agreement before looking back up at the shop-front one more time, and disapparating.

Gabriel stared at the now empty street, lost in his thoughts and his suspicions for a time, until the shrilling scream of a kettle from inside roused him.

With elegant movements, he turned and walked past the threshold, closing the door behind him.

Walking down a short hallway, he climbed the warm almond coloured staircase, running a hand up the smooth, familiar wood of the railing as he had done countless times before.

Taking a sharp left at the top of the stairs, he pushed open the white painted, swinging kitchen door with one hand and stepped inside.

It was small. But then the apartment at the top of the shop was only ever meant for one person, maybe two. The floor was a white tile, the cupboards and bench top a light wood, smooth and well loved.

Julian stood with his back to the door, hands gripping the metal sink tightly as he stared out the small window onto the picturesque street below.

Gabriel moved further into the room, pulling out one of the petrol blue, painted chairs and sitting at an angle to the good-sized, yellow table facing Julian's back.

"Do you want a cup of tea?"The murmur echoed in the otherwise silent room.

Gabriel watched the tense muscles of the werewolf's back and supposed that the familiar actions might put his friend more at ease, making the conversation they would have easier. For both of them, because he was having a hard time controlling his temper right now after hearing what Julian had almost cost Hadrian tonight.

"You might want to re-boil the kettle, first." There wasn't anything in his tone to betray his anger and Julian's shoulders drooped. He wondered why; relief? Exhaustion? Defeat? He'd have to get to the root of Cliffton's anger to fully understand his reactions but he had no intention leaving until he had done just that.

"Yes, of course." With those absentminded words, Julian moved from his position by the sink to the kettle on the stove.

"Why don't you just use your wand?" Gabriel asked with slight disbelief as he saw the dirty blonde reaching for box of matches to light the gas stove.

Julian stiffened. "It's nice to do things the muggle way sometimes, Gabriel. More fulfilling."

Gabriel stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the ridiculous romanticism of the words and didn't comment. His practical nature thought his friend foolish, but the werewolf had always been a romantic, he'd learned to accept that year's ago.

It was only when Julian was easing into the dark blue, wooden seat opposite him with his own cup of tea that Gabriel broached the only topic that interested him right now.

"What the hell did you think you were doing tonight, Julian?"

Golden eyes narrowed slightly, fingers gripping tighter onto the large mug handle, "Why do you care?"

Blue eyes hardened. "Don't act the fool, Julian, of course I care. Hadrian is one our closest friends, but that didn't seem to matter to you tonight. It doesn't even seem to matter to you right now."

Bitter laughter erupted from the dirty blonde in front of him and Gabriel set his own mug down on the table and sat back in his chair. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"Don't act the fool, Gabe?" He laughed loudly before abruptly cutting off. "Why don't you stop treating me like a fool then?"

If Julian had hoped or expected for his attitude to shock his friend he was sadly mistaken. Gabriel simply stared back at him steadily.

A suspicion had been growing inside his mind, one which had taken form when he realised Hadrian wanted him to deal with the dirty blonde for whatever reason. It had only grown when he heard from Demetri what had happened tonight, Julian just had to confirm it.

"Hadrian's one of our closest friends," Julian mimicked his words with angry eyes and an ugly sneer. "But Hadrian isn't just a friend to you, is he Gabriel?" He demanded loudly, his eyes glowing with jealousy. "_Is he_?!" He screamed, sweeping his arm violently to the side, knocking his porcelain mug to the floor, where the sound of the shattering shards resonated around the kitchen.

The sound of Julian's heavy breathing sounded loud in the subsequent silence.

Gabriel looked into his friend's golden eyes.

They were begging him...pleading with him to deny the accusation.

"Why ask a question you already know the answer to, Julian?" He asked softly.

His friend swallowed hard, as if it pained him, but his eyes didn't waver. "I have to know. I have to hear it from you. I won't believe it otherwise."

Gabriel sighed; he had never wanted to hurt his friend, but Hadrian owned a part of him that no other could ever touch. He loved the man more than anything in the world.

"Then, no...you're correct. Hadrian isn't just a friend to me."

Something died in those golden eyes with those words; the orbs dimmed and reflected back a despair that Gabriel himself was familiar with.

A feeling of loss and hopelessness that the French wizard had spent weeks buried under, ignoring even the summons of a Dark Lord before he had shaken himself free of the anguish, and determination had taken its place.

Determination not to lose Hadrian Walker.

The man didn't love him, Gabriel knew that. But there was plenty of lust and mutual respect already there. He just had to be patient, love would follow in time. He hoped.

"Why?" The whispered question had him frowning in confusion. "Why, _Hadrian_?"

Gabriel's expression became stony at the way Hadrian's name was said, harshly, as if a swear word.

"We're getting off topic, Julian..."

"No! I want to know. I want to know how you can overlook his scheming; his blatant disregard for what is right and wrong. He's already tortured and murdered, Gabe, can't you see what he's turning into?! He masquerades as this weak-willed moron of a wizard at Hogwarts, delighting in being the master puppeteer while satisfying his planet sized ego by playing in Europe's politics. It's wrong, it's wrong! And we shouldn't be helping him to play his sick, demented games, Gabe!"

"Stop!" Gabriel stood abruptly from the table, eyes glacial, wand trembling in his hand with the power of his rage. "I won't listen to this, Julian..."

"You will!" Julian joined him on his feet, shouting over him, eyes desperate. As if trying to open his own to a truth he didn't want to see, and determined to be the one to do it.

Gabriel turned away in disgust and building anger, unable to stomach staring into those beseechingly hopeful eyes for another moment.

"You will listen to me, Gabriel! You can't see! How can't you see what is right in front of your eyes?! Merlin! Hadrian shags anything on two legs, Gabe!" He cried in distress, "Even the _thought_ that he's had you too!"

Gabriel crossed his arms to stop the curse he wanted so much to cast, from leaving his wand.

Julian was pacing frantically around the kitchen at this point; totally unaware of the growing danger his words were putting him in or the way the Dalton heir's icy anger continued to plummet into arctic waters.

"The students at Hogwarts have no idea what he's capable of, Gabriel, none! He could rip them to shreds if he wanted to and after I saw the condition of the man he murdered in front of us, with an unforgivable, Gabe, an unforgiveable! They have to be told, it's not fair, not right, that they don't know and can't take the necessary precautions against someone so..."

"...Dark?"

...

Julian froze at the absolute ice contained in that one word and spun around to face his 'love'.

He almost recoiled at the depthless wintry fury in those blue eyes he loved so much.

Ever since that night he had left the Nadine Manor after Hadrian had returned safely from his confrontation with the Dark Lord, his heart had ached.

His fears and suspicions about Gabriel and Hadrian had existed for months before that night, growing in strength and dread since that one incident which had prompted everything.

_(Flashback)_

_Julian moved down the corridor swiftly, practically flying past the portraits in his hurry to get to his destination. _

_He'd done it; he had finally bought the Hogsmede shop and the apartment above it that he had been renting for three years now. It was his. All his. He grinned widely, happiness and excitement pouring off him in waves. _

_And there was only one person he wanted to tell. Well, the one person he wanted to know first, at least. Gabriel Dalton. _

_The French wizard hadn't quite understood his excitement when he had told everyone about the owner possibly wanting to sell, and how he thought he might have just enough savings put aside to buy the property. _

_Hadrian had laughed at the perplexed look on the wizard's face and said something about the Dalton's having so much money that Gabriel would never be able to understand Julian's enthusiasm in anything but a purely intellectual way._

_Still, his friend might not have grasped the importance of such a step, but he had realised how happy his friend, Julian, was about the possibility, and had sent the most angelic smile his way..._

_With a laugh he shook his head. He had been in love with the wizard for a while now. Year's actually. But hadn't had the courage to say anything yet. But with the pure triumph flowing through him, right now he felt like he could take on the world. _

_He had it all planned out. _

_He had spent the first week after he had actually purchased the shop doing it all up. Not telling any of his friends that he had actually bought it yet. _

_He hadn't meant to, but he couldn't help thinking of what Gabriel would and wouldn't like when redoing his home. He had wanted to paint the hallway a bright red colour, always loving bold tones on the walls of a room. Then he had remembered how he had once commented on the ostentatious way Dalton Manor was decorated. _

_He would never forget the blank stare that the blonde had looked at him with, before the pureblood had said that he liked it, it had history. _

_So, he had painstakingly gone through every antique store within apparating distance, looking for reasonably priced historical pieces, and placing them strategically around his home. _

_He had finally finished an hour ago and had only taken the time to shower, change into his nicest, but still casual clothes and fix his hair back into a low pony tail. Then he had flooed to France, straight into the Dalton Manor. He was extraordinarily proud of the fact, that he was one of only a handful of people keyed into wards and allowed such direct entrance onto the grounds._

_He was going to invite Gabriel to join him for a cup of tea at his house. He grinned. His own house._

_There, after giving the grand tour, where Gabe would no doubt comment on a few of his antique pieces, they would sit down for tea and he would tell him. _

_He was finally ready to tell Gabriel Dalton, heir to one of the most influential dark pureblood family's in Europe that he was in love with him. _

_Lost as he was in his blissful thoughts, the scent hit him like a sledge hammer. _

_Sex._

_It smelt like sex. _

_But not only was it recent, very recent, but it was coming from behind the closed doors of the Dalton heir's bed chambers. _

_His werewolf senses informed him of what he already knew had taken place, probably not even forty minutes ago. His hearing detected the deep breathing of only one person in the room and, even hating what he would smell, he took a deep breath in. It was Gabriel asleep behind the door. _

_He didn't like it, despised it actually, but he knew that Gabe was far from virginal. _

_He had had many lovers over the years, men and women, but they had only ever been flings. It was the only thing which controlled his jealousy and hurt; the knowledge that his many lovers had never meant more to Gabriel than his friendship with Julian. _

_Then the door in front of him was opening and he felt his mouth go dry at the sight before him. _

_Gabriel was wearing nothing but a loose robe tied at the waist with a small satin cord. A peak at his white, sculptured chest was visible and, his eyes darkened, so was the bruise on his collarbone. _

"_Julian? What are you doing here?"The sleepy wizard from two seconds ago was gone, Gabriel now fully aware and awake. _

_Always be prepared, never show weakness. The pureblood mantras had always irritated him. Gabe shouldn't feel like he needed to be strong in front of him, he didn't want that. _

"_Well, I was just going to invite..."His voice trailed off as his stomach plunged. _

_A new scent floated lazily beneath his nose. One which had hidden slyly behind the closed bedroom door. _

_A scent he was extremely familiar with. _

_Hadrian. _

_The questions exploded in his mind, and were just as quickly explained away with the desperateness of a man that just didn't want to know the truth. _

_It might be an old scent. But why would it be in Gabe's bedroom? Perhaps he was just showing him something in there? _

_Because the truth was too devastating to even think, let alone acknowledge. Julian was, without a doubt, more important to Gabriel than any of his past lovers but, he knew, in his heart of hearts, that Hadrian was more important to Gabriel than anyone. _

_Hadrian was the person Gabriel went to if he had a problem; Hadrian would understand, Hadrian would know, I'd feel better if I checked with Hadrian, were expressions not foreign to Julian's ear. _

_That wasn't to say that Gabriel was Hadrian's doormat. The French aristocrat most certainly didn't wait for Hadrian's blessing like a puppy. On the contrary, in circumstances where Hadrian deemed advice would be prudent, he would often ask the Dalton heir's own opinion on an issue bothering him. _

_But Hadrian was the person his love respected most in the world._

_And that was a big. None of them trusted easily, and he wasn't in denial of Walker's importance to the man he wanted as his own._

_Hadrian could apparently understand things Julian simply wouldn't be able to. He hated it, that they shared this bond that he couldn't seem to touch. _

_But he'd never dreamed that it might end in the bedroom._

_That was supposed to be where he and Gabriel ended up. It had never even occurred to him that this might ever happen. _

_Hadrian was undeniably handsome, yes, and intelligent, powerful but he treated his own bed partners with even more disregard than Gabriel! And the two wouldn't want to ruin their friendship by having a fling, he reasoned to himself. _

"_Julian?" Gabriel asked, "Julian? You were just going to invite me where?" _

_No, it would never happen, it was too insane a thought. _

_It was too devastating a thought. _

_Because if Gabriel ever pursued an intimate relationship with Hadrian, that would mean that the Dalton heir felt enough for Walker to jeopardise the friendship he held in most high esteem. _

_And he would have lost before he had a chance to even begin. _

_Because Hadrian Walker didn't lose, he didn't fail. There was no competition between them that Julian could ever hope to win. _

_So, he ignored what he knew to be true and convinced himself that his mind was playing tricks on him. _

"_Invite?" He echoed, forcing his mind back to the present and the amused smirk Gabe was sending his way. "Yes, I have a surprise. I wanted...well; I wanted you to be the first to know." _

_..._

But he couldn't ignore it anymore.

The hostility and jealousy had built and built inside of him since that moment and he had almost cracked that night in Nadine Manor.

And then he'd started to think.

Hadrian's actions had caused Gabriel to suffer under the Dark Lord's torture curse, had placed all their friends in danger. He was a murderer, a guiltless torturer.

His long time friend slowly ceased to be his friend and became his enemy.

But a niggling doubt had always existed. And that doubt had stopped him from just blurting out the truth tonight to Hadrian's Hogwarts schoolmates.

What if he was wrong? What if everything was just a wonderful coincidence?

But he had caught too many lustful glances that Gabriel threw Hadrian, had scented them on each other's skin too many times. But still, that tiny flame of hope remained, that minute, desperate desire that somehow everything could be explained.

Gabriel's admittance tonight had extinguished that last, hopeful doubt.

And all he could see when he pictured Hadrian, was the enemy.

He had to show Gabriel, to make him _see_ that Hadrian was bad for him...that he didn't want him, not really.

So, he ignored the Dalton heir's warning eyes, just as he had ignored the truth all those months ago.

"Yes," He gasped. "He's dark! Hadrian has _changed_, Gabe, changed for the worse. Look what he is willing to do! Look at what he has done!" He pressed, watching his love with wide, hopeful eyes.

"_I_ am Dark, Julian." The words were said softly, in a low tone.

He shook his sandy blonde head, he didn't get it, "No, Gabriel! Yes, you're dark, but you're not...evil! You would never torture an innocent man and cast the killing curse without blinking an eye."

...

Gabriel stared at the man that had been one of his closest friends for years, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.

"_Evil ?!" _Gabriel couldn't quite force the word from his throat; it seemed permanently stuck there, as he stared at his supposed friend in horrified anger.

Sweet Darkness! With tremendous difficulty he managed to hold back his rage at the slur against Hadrian, forcing himself to focus on what this meant.

"Julian! Would you...! For _Darkness's sake_! Employ some of that sense I _know_ you were born with and get a hold of yourself. You must be hysterical or...something," He spat, with barely restrained hostility, wanting to believe that the words had only been uttered in the heat of the moment, nothing more. "Because the rubbish you are spouting at me right now sounds like something out of the mouths of the British Ministry of Magic!"

He was a dark pureblood heir. No matter what Julian might wish to believe in his happy little fantasy world, he had tortured before, he had killed and murdered before. And if the situation called for it, he would do both again.

He was Dark. His magic, his heritage, his mentality, his sympathies were all Dark. That would never change.

And he was sick of the words spewing out of the mouth of a person he would have said, yet a mere weak ago, would always have his back.

"Well, maybe they're right! I don't want to live in a world that condones the use of torture curses. Curses you, yourself, were put under because of Hadrian!"

Gabriel forced himself to breathe deeply.

Where was this all coming from? Yes, he knew that hearing about him and Hadrian was going to hurt Julian, but these views that he was yelling at him? They take time to develop, and he had arguments to spare, ready to throw his way on the tip of his tongue. Meaning he'd been dwelling on these thoughts for a while.

For the first time, he realised that his friend might not support the Dark in the war that was coming.

He might hate the Dark Lord; hate the way Hadrian's stunning eyes would cloud over in a distraction they had only ever had since he and Lord Voldemort spoke privately.

But that certainly didn't mean that he didn't support the Dark with every fibre of his being.

With a cutting movement through the air, he indicated for silence.

"Enough, Julian, enough." He didn't let the werewolf speak, "You might be able to lie to yourself with an effectiveness that is...truly, astonishing." He sneered in disgust. "But I've never suffered the same malady. My eyes are wide open, Julian and seeing more than they care to."

Wand gripped tightly in a white knuckled fist; Gabriel found himself hampered by his emotions in a way that he hadn't been since his parent's deaths had taught him the cool, harsh reality of the world he lived in.

Julian clearly couldn't be trusted; his jealousy and anger made his betraying Hadrian a very real possibility.

If this were anyone else threatening Hadrian in such a way, he would have no compunction in obliviating their entire mind, leaving them a veritable vegetable.

He felt unbalanced, shocked by the level of hostility, this lack of reason in Julian.

He hadn't expected a situation to ever occur where he would have to decide this about one of his friends. One of the few people he trusted in the world. Let alone, that he would be forced through necessity to make such a decision tonight.

He hadn't predicted this outcome. That climbing those almond steps would lead him here.

There was only one thing he could do. He couldn't bring himself to cast the obliviate charm at right this moment. He was too shocked, too guilty, angry and worried. If, when he had had time to process what he had learned here tonight, he decided that he couldn't take the risk, he'd return and obliviate Julian himself.

In the meantime, legilimency was his safest option.

He would place a thought so strong within Julian's mind; no compulsion could ever hope to match its strength. The only thing better would be the imperious curse. It would require a great deal of magic, but he was powerful enough of a wizard to pull it off.

Without any preamble, he wasn't one for speeches; he locked eyes with turbulent gold and dived in.

A werewolf had natural mental barriers, but over the years he had studied Julian's out of academic curiousity and learned all there was to know about werewolf mental shields. It didn't take long and he withdrew slowly, careful not to disturb any of his work.

Julian would still have all his memories, all his feelings, all his motivations, but whenever he thought of betraying knowledge of Hadrian to anyone who wasn't supposed to know, he would encounter an overwhelming urge to keep Hadrian's secrets to himself.

Eager to leave the stomach turning presence of his friend, he was stopped in his tracks at the broken question whispered behind him.

"Why him?...Why _him_, Gabriel? Why not, _me_?"

He thought of just leaving. Just walking out that door and not deigning Cliffton with a response, he certainly didn't deserve one after all his words and betrayal tonight.

But he wanted him to know.

Just yesterday, he would have refused to answer such a question, knowing the hurt it would inflict on his friend. And if pressed, he certainly wouldn't have given a truthful answer.

But he didn't owe the werewolf a damn thing. Julian's shameful display here, tonight, had most certainly exposed that.

So he answered. With the truth.

"I know you think that Hadrian seduced me into his bed, Julian. That I don't know what lengths he's willing to go to get what he wants, or the things and people he's willing to eliminate to get there. But you're wrong. I know the Darkness in Hadrian far better than you ever have, Julian. But it doesn't scare me, because I understand and accept that it is a part of him. That viciousness that you find so abhorrent, calls and satisfies some same element in my own character, it intrigues' me."

Flashing a look over his shoulder, he felt some satisfaction at the anguish his words were engendering. He didn't pull any punches, hating that through Julian's decision to let jealousy rule him, he had forsaken a friendship which had survived years.

"As for the physical side of things, despite whatever romantic ideas you may have convinced yourself of, I knew exactly where I was and what I was doing when I was in Hadrian's bed."

Julian drew in a shuddering gasp of pain but Gabriel wasn't done, he wanted to twist the knife just like sandy blonde's disloyalty had in him.

"I never wanted you, Julian. I've always wanted him."

With that, he left.

...

A blood curdling scream rang through the cold library and the Dark Lord smiled.

Lifting the curse, he watched as the platinum blonde wizard wheezed and trembled uncontrollably on the stone floor at his feet.

Knowing that it would be useless to talk to his Death Eater until he at least managed to remember where he was and why, Voldemort turned back to the text he had been reading.

He was very curious about the magical ritual he had witnessed Mr Walker perform last night. It had been intricate and difficult, but the young man had performed it with a fluidity that bespoke of absolute confidence in his own skills. He found himself to be so interested, in fact, that as soon as he had taken care of any matters that were immediately pressing, he had retired to the library to sate that curiousity.

Having performed and even constructed many of his own rituals through the years, he had recognised and was able to translate the Druidic language as he had listened last night. For the same reason, the runes hadn't been hard to decipher either.

But, the amulet necklace that had served as the central focus of the ritual had surprised him.

The siren rune, as unique as it was, gave him a marvellous starting point.

Lucius Malfoy had arrived, answering his summons, at the exact moment he had found the book he was looking for.

As a guide for his eyes, he ran his finger down the printed words, refreshing his memory on the seductive creatures.

Suddenly, his entire body tensed and stilled.

Nothing in his countenance suggested any change, except his eyes. His dark, red orbs were staring at the book in front of him, motionless and unfocused.

He had felt the exact moment that the bond he had initiated some time ago, finally slid into place, complete.

Crimson narrowed in suspicion.

...

_Hey! So...what did you think? I thought it important to emphasise in this chapter that Hadrian isn't weak or being dominated by the Dark Lord, effortlessly. _

_Hadrian has had to deal with the stress of taking a potion that he knows isn't doing his body any good because he refuses to just accept a bond that is normally completed within minutes of coming into existence. It has taken him longer, with realisations which would normally have occurred to him on his own, to figure out how to proceed. But, as Hadrian says, 'turnabouts, fair play'. The Dark Lord's realisation of what his own actions have wrought ought to be interesting, huh? Well, that, and I can't see him taking the damage to his 'property' through an addictive potion very well, either. Hadrian's view of; it was worth it? Can't wait to write the Dark Lord's reaction to that little piece of knowledge! _

_Q: A lot of people have been asking me what happened to Raven. And seeing as how I'm going to reveal that very thing in the next chapter, I'm curious to know what you guys think might have happened to her. She's a stubborn old lady with some serious magical power to back her up, can't see her accepting Voldemort's order lying down, can you? Especially when it involves her, 'darling son'. _

_I'd love to hear your opinions and what you thought of the long awaited chapter! Really hoping you guys are still reading, out there ;D_


	21. Dark Lord's Are Now Tucking Him Into Bed

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_Thank-you very much for all the wonderful reviews last chapter! I think I've replied to all of them now, I get very excited to read all the different opinions, so, thank-you!_

...

"Mister Walker...? Um, Mister...Mister Walker?"

The squeaky, familiar sound of a house-elf roused Hadrian from the depths of his slumber. He slowly blinked open his eyes only to swiftly shut them again with a grimace.

"Close the curtains, would you?" He snapped at the creature.

With a spineless, 'eep!', Hadrian heard the tell-tale swishing noise of the heavy draperies closing, cutting off the sharp sunlight that had so offended his sight.

He had a brief thought to thanking the house-elf and maybe even apologising for his abruptness, Hadrian really did always think them the most ingenious of creatures, but the little thing had already disappeared by the time he managed to sit up.

Oh well, he was certain that the servant was more than used to the unfair treatment from its human masters already.

With a groan of appreciation, Hadrian stretched his hands high above his neck as he stood from the warm, inviting sheets. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept that well.

The soft sound of metal hitting wood drew his lazy attention. With a smirk, Hadrian slowly bent down to retrieve Astrid's pendant. Laying it in his open palm, he studied the now simply ornamental silver dragon. It was now only a souvenir of his successful foray last night and the reminder quickened his heart.

The amulet no longer possessed any of the impressively, subtle power that it had harboured before. It didn't surprise him in the least that it had taken every drop of influence to stave off the Dark Lord.

A broad grin of satisfaction finally made itself known on his physical body as he let out a bark of laughter.

It required no more than the simple mental wish to know where the Dark Lord was for the bond to work its altered directives and gift his mind with the knowledge.

With scholastic interest, Hadrian reviewed the 'pull' like action tugging on his magic. It wasn't like being given co-ordinates, or even a picture of where Lord Voldemort was.

It was based on...feelings, for lack of a better term. It was similar to the theory of apparition; you pictured the location you wanted to arrive at, however, even if you possessed the necessary skill, if you didn't know where you were going, side-a-long was necessary. The magic of the connection was telling him that the Dark Lord was in Britain. It 'felt' like Britain.

It was terribly interesting to see how the location condition operated. He would know if the Dark Lord was in Hogwarts, as he was aware of the flavour of that site. The same went for Diagon Alley, Paris, and The Ministry.

The narrowing of location was as limited as its wizard's personal experience.

Thankfully, Raven and he had travelled extensively throughout his childhood. On the other hand, Hadrian was beyond certain that a Dark Lord with many years of experience on him, including visiting all sorts of prospective allies would have a far greater repertoire of 'feelings' for his magic to pull from.

Unfortunate, but Hadrian was still very pleased with how he had managed to alter the property bond.

Tossing the metal dragon up into the air, he caught it smoothly as he glided towards the adjoining bathroom.

It was only once he was underneath the hot water of the shower, scrubbing away last night's sweat and grime, from what appeared to be lank brown locks that he suddenly froze.

"Oh, _Morgana_...!" He groaned, letting his face fall into his hands.

You would think that the notion, of _how_ he had made it_ back_ to his wonderfully, comfortable bed to _enjoy_ that restful sleep he had been mentally extolling on only minutes ago, might have come up sooner.

"Apparently not." Hadrian murmured, in answer to the mocking of his own thoughts.

The last thing he could remember thinking, was how ironically cruel it was to have gotten so far, only to die of blood loss because he was too exhausted to heal the deep, seeping wound on his wrist.

Raising his limb to eye-level, he slowly traced across the unmarked skin where the knife had sliced. It wasn't even tender.

He could remember the anger he had felt at the Dark Lord, his stubborn pride not allowing him to ask the other to help him. Just the thought that he might have made some sort of pathetic plea, while slipping into unconsciousness was enough to turn his stomach.

Hadrian slowly curled his fingers, one by one, into a tight fist. No, he knew that he wouldn't have done that.

And considering he wasn't currently being interrogated by blue eyed blonde's that meant Lord Voldemort must have healed him.

Hadrian certainly hoped that the wizard didn't think this meant he owed him a favour, or was in his debt. As far as he was concerned, the 'healing' wouldn't have even been needed if not for the other's choice to force a bond of property onto him.

Which meant, his stomach swooped unexpectedly in what he refused to believe was anything but horror, that the Dark Lord must have personally brought him back to his room.

Hadrian's eyes narrowed; why not leave him lying in the middle of a study he was clearly forbidden to enter, to be found by his guardian's in the morning? Voldemort was not soft; it wasn't done for his comfort or 'out of the kindness of his heart'.

So why?

Irritated that these recent realisations were souring his victory, Hadrian turned his face up into the spray, determined not to think on the possible significance of a sadistic, merciless Dark wizard, 'tucking' him into bed.

He pulled a face at the expression his mind had given the incident, but honestly, if the shoe fits.

Spinning the tap handle until the water was only dripping; he climbed out of the marble shower and shrugged on the white, towel dressing robe folded neatly on the bathroom counter top.

Hadrian put the disturbing thought into the back of his mind as he crossed the room. Sweeping up his wand from where it rested on one of the bed side tables. As he grasped the familiar wood, he tried not to think about the person who must have placed it there. Or how the location was considerately within arm's reach of the position he had woken up in.

Attempting to unravel the motives behind _that _supposedly thoughtful action, would undo all the good his deep sleep had done him.

His mind was clear, rested and it felt brilliant.

But that didn't blind him to the ache of fatigue in his limbs and the small shakes of his hands. The way his belly grumbled for food, but the thought of eating turned his stomach.

He was in withdrawal.

Raising his wand, he cast multiple silencing charms and proximity wards, pausing only a second before double checking that no additional spying spells had been set. Knowing the Dark Lord had been in his room last night didn't exactly inspire a feeling of privacy or security.

With his sharp intellect intact, Hadrian's mind was once again working at its usual fast speed and, almost as soon his wake-up call had roused him, a possible solution to one of his problems had occurred to him.

House-elves.

Feeling as secure as he was going to get, Hadrian quickly dressed himself in a pair of muggle jeans, a white t-shirt and grey jumper. He might despise muggles, but he enjoyed the simple fashion of the non-magical world rather than traditional wizarding robes when it came to casual clothes. And, to make his usual choice even more appealing, it would no doubt upset the sensibilities of his hosts.

It was time to get some answers.

Hadrian might no longer be accepted by the wards surrounding Nadine Manor in Denmark, even with a vial of his blood Demetri hadn't been granted entrance. But just this morning he had been reminded, his mind once again clear, what marvellous beings house-elves were.

Taking a deep breath in, Hadrian called one of the Nadine house-elves, "Blink!"

Almost as soon as the word had left his mouth, Blink appeared in front of him. His smirk slipped from his face when enormous, round eyes staring up at him in reverence, began gathering liquid at alarming speeds.

"Master!" The choked squeak was all he heard before his knees were being embraced and squeezed tightly.

"Blink?! What..." Hadrian grasped the thin elbows, pushing against the vice like grip. "Blink! Pull yourself together." He ordered sharply.

The little creature drew back reluctantly, drawing in great, heaving gulps of air in an attempt to follow Hadrian's wishes. Normally, Hadrian had enough fondness to wait this part out; house-elves were notoriously melodramatic, but the state of the creature had increased his worry for Raven.

"Blink, is Raven alright? Is she well?" He made sure his voice was calm in order to speed a similar emotion in the house-elf.

Big ears flopped down pathetically on either side of her head. "No, Master. But Mistress Raven be telling Blink, to tell you, when you call, to tell you, that you mustn't worry about her. That she is fine."

Hadrian narrowed his eyes. "Why are you calling me Master, Blink?" Raven was the last surviving Nadine, even if that was through marriage. She had ordered the house-elves to obey Hadrian like any other wizarding parent would, but the title of Master was always given to the owner.

"Mistress Raven transferred ownership of Blink to Master Hadrian, so that, should he call, I must answer and, at his order, exit Nadine Manor to come to him."

Hadrian considered the elf currently biting her lip, if he owned Blink then she could not lie to him.

"Why can't I get through the wards around Nadine Manor, Blink?" he asked quietly.

The elf's eyes lit up in excitement, almost as if she had been desperately wanting and waiting for him to ask that very question.

"Oh, Master! It was terrible, terrible!" She shook her head violently, wringing her bony fingers together, "A wizard showed up at the house saying he is Mistress's friend, an old friend, he said. I didn't want to let him in, Mistress always told us not to let people in, no matter what they said, but then the bad wizard cursed me. It hurt! It hurt!" She sobbed pitifully. "But Blink still wouldn't let the bad wizard come in. He forced me, spelled me to make me let him come in and not warn Mistress. To only tell her that an old friend was waiting for her."

Hadrian's heart was thumping painfully against his chest, but he didn't dare interrupt the crying elf.

"He hurts Mistress Raven." Blink's bottom lip trembled, looking straight up at Hadrian, large clear tears falling freely down her face, "I don't know what the bad wizard and Mistress spoke about, not allowed to eavesdrop, that's my order, no eavesdropping." She repeated, as if pleading with Hadrian to understand her lack of knowledge.

"What did he do, Blink?" Hadrian pressed, unable to help himself.

A loud, single wail erupted from the small elf, startling him, "He blinds her! She can't see! Mistress, the bad wizard he..." She hiccupped, not managing to get her words out.

Hadrian's eyes grew wide and he staggered backwards, grasping wildly at one of the bed posts for support.

Blind.

Raven was blind.

That's why she couldn't answer his letters, he realised with horror, staring unseeingly through Blink's miserable figure. She couldn't see his words, his angry, demanding words. His eyes closed slowly in grief for the strong woman that never let anything beat her into submission. His mother.

In his second year, when Raven had gifted him the box that exchanged their correspondence at Hogwarts, they had made sure that it was heavily warded against house-elves. Knowing as they did about the frequent searches of student's belongings by the creatures, Raven had made sure that any object which had at one time been within the confines of either box could not be touched or seen by house-elves.

The irony, even in this situation, didn't escape him. Their clever thinking was exactly the thing which had prevented Blink from opening his letters.

"What did this...old friend," he ground out through clenched teeth, "look like? Did he give a name?"

Blink must have sensed his anger as her sounds quieted considerably, "No name, Master. But he was..."

Hadrian sharpened his eyes on the elf when her voice trailed off, a harsh demand for her to answer on the tip of his tongue, but he was distracted.

Her eyes held fear now, clear as day, but she wasn't looking at him, she was pointing at the embers in the fire.

"His eyes, Master," The elf didn't even have to say it. Hadrian already knew. "They were red, red like the colour of those coals."

Fury and loss grappled for control within him. The thought that he hadn't _known_ this...! That he had been...!

But no. He hadn't wasted time. He had been trying to escape a fate even worse than Raven had suffered at the hands of the Dark Lord. He just needed to know...

"Is she alright? Besides her being blind, Blink, is Raven healthy?"

"Mistress Raven can't see, Master, but she is learning." Hadrian smiled grimly at that news.

If he knew Raven, being blind wouldn't slow her down. She just needed time to adjust. His breathing evened out. She shouldn't have to go through this, not after everything else, but Hadrian's pulse calmed with the realisation that Raven hadn't left him. It might have been selfish but Hadrian knew that Raven would adapt to her loss of sight, he would make sure of it.

"But Master, the bad wizard locked the wards." His eyes snapped up, piercing Blink, making the elf tremble.

"What do you mean?" He said lowly.

"The red eyed man, he made it so that Mistress Raven can't get out and Master can't get in. Nothing but the bad wizard can get in or out, not even owls." She murmured sadly.

Hadrian's eyes widened even as the injustice fanned the flames of his fury at the Dark Lord.

"That's why Raven transferred your ownership to me." He spoke his thoughts out loud, not giving any notice to the frantic nodding of the elf at his feet. "He changed the wards when you belonged to Raven, but because she changed that after..."The softly spoken words trailed off as his thoughts continued to race.

Although magic users often forgot about the unique nature of house-elf magic, Hadrian couldn't see Lord Voldemort being so careless. He had to have known that Raven might transfer ownership of the elf to him, thereby, giving him relative access and communication with his adopted Mother.

No, his guardianship under the Malfoy's was strategic. He was within the Dark Lord's easy reach; his freedom would be curtailed by his continuous usage of his weak persona, his ability to do what he wanted, when he wanted, reduced for the same reason.

The Dark Lord simply wanted Raven away from him.

The fact that Hadrian might find out what had happened to his mother didn't mean that the wards would now accept him. He was still physically cut off from her, and with his persona hampering his actions couldn't simply leave to go examine said wards.

A small, humourless smirk appeared on his lips as he realised the real reason the Dark Lord had so quickly come after him, that day he escaped from Diagon Alley. The man probably thought he was going to go examine Nadine Manor's wards.

"Blink, tell Raven that I understand the situation and I'm going to find a solution. Tell her that I have to go back to Hogwarts soon, anyway; so I'll have plenty of time to figure a way get past the wards, but not to worry."

The little elf nodded her head with a wide smile. "Yes, Master."

"Look after her, Blink. I want you to stay with Raven unless I call for you. Except for an emergency, do not come directly to me with any messages. Alright?" He ordered.

"Yes, Master."

...

Hadrian descended the stairs, deep in thought.

He had a few ideas concerning Raven's blindness; he could remember reading something about trials being done where patients learn to see with their magic. Researching would have to wait until he got back to school.

Despite his fury at the injury done to his adopted mother, the effectiveness of both their prisons' and the fact that Lord Voldemort was to blame, Hadrian was glad that Raven was effectively safe behind bars.

It was now known to both the Dark and Light that she was alive and kicking. He could at least be confident in the strength of the wards surrounding the Manor. The Dark Lord wouldn't do things by half and he'd need very strong wards, with hidden weaves, to keep Raven Nadine nee Black in captivity.

With the smallest of attention, the bond informed Hadrian that the Dark Lord's location hadn't altered since he'd woken an hour and a half ago. The reminder of his triumph was the only thing which cooled his simmering ire to easily manageable levels.

Pity he couldn't do the same for the shakes that came and went.

Walking stiffly into the dining room parlour, Hadrian noticed that both Draco and Narcissa were already seated, the Lord of the Manor's chair conspicuously empty.

"You missed breakfast."Lady Malfoy's voice was cool, clipped.

She was angry. Furious, actually.

Hadrian glanced at his classmate beside him, but saw none of the same rage practically radiating from Narcissa. How interesting. The vacant seat at the head of the table suddenly became a lot more telling.

"Yes, I apologise. I slept in. I'm not used to late nights, you see." He smiled widely, enjoying the curl of distaste that tugged down the right corner of her mouth. The full teeth grin he was sporting was one which never failed to inspire abhorrence whenever he felt the need or fancy to employ it.

The smile was disgustingly obnoxious due, in all ways, to its easily spotted, almost inescapable transparency. It was a full grin that all could see was designed to be charming, but through his persona's uncalled for arrogance and severe lack of ability, instead, produced a very clever blend of revulsion and loathing that deterred even the kindest of souls.

This particular expression had always worked wonderfully on Severus Snape and Pomona Sprout. The presumptuous 'arrogance' tested his Head of House's restraint not to inflict bodily harm upon a student to its limits. Whereas, Professor Sprout, the teacher that always had a good thing to say about everyone, the educator forever willing to devote extra time to those less gifted students, just couldn't accept the 'blatant' attempt to charm her, as if she were a fool.

It was brilliant. And it had come through for Hadrian yet again it seemed, if the way Narcissa was closing her eyes as she turned her neck away from his visage, as if she couldn't stand to even look at him, was anything to go by.

"Where's Mr Malfoy?" Hadrian kept his voice light while he slowly munched on a small cucumber finger-sandwich, appearing to the entire world a carefree, unburdened adolescent.

Apart from the more obvious stretched pause, his sharp eyes noted the way Lady Malfoy's fingers tightened around the delicate, china handle of her expensive tea-cup.

"He had to go into the Ministry." She said tightly.

Hadrian let his mouth open and make an 'ah' sound, even as he hid his smirking mouth deep in the crystal glass of pumpkin juice.

If he wasn't mistaken, Lucius Malfoy was currently suffering for thinking he could outwit the Dark Lord's express orders.

Good.

"Mother, I'm going to go outside to fly." Draco said as he pushed back his chair from the table.

Hadrian mused inwardly on how the Malfoy heir clearly needn't wait for all persons to be finished their meal, before excusing themselves from the table. He, on the other hand, had been reprimanded not two days before for the very same thing. Yet again, the double standard was clear and deliberate.

Shrugging, it really didn't bother him, Hadrian reached forward to grab a bread roll as mother and son spoke between themselves.

Just as he grasped his chosen roll, his hands began to shake.

Darting a swift look at the distracted blonde's, Hadrian quickly began pulling back his hand. His grip around the bread became loose, his fingers unable to follow his mind's commands adequately, and the roll fell through his shaking fingers, dropping onto the pristine, white, linen table cloth in front of his plate.

Abandoning the bread, knowing the movement had attracted the two Malfoy's attention, he swiftly drew his elbow back, hiding his shaking hands underneath the table in his lap.

Draco raised a thin eyebrow at the lone, poppy seed covered, white sourdough roll sitting awkwardly in the large space between the serving basket and Hadrian's china plates and crystal glasses.

"Problem, Walker?"He drawled. "Do you often change your mind in the middle of serving yourself food and merely choose to discard the item wherever it may land?"

Narcissa's brows drew down into a dainty frown. "Hadrian, please, if you could employ some of the manners you have been shown, in the meals you have taken with us in Malfoy Manor, these past few days, it would be much appreciated."

Not appreciating the deliberate inference, Hadrian gave a pitiful smile, "Of course, Lady, it's just that I'm still...recovering from Mr Malfoy's actions last evening."

He enjoyed the way her face turned white with fury at both the reminder of her husband's punishment and the uncouth way in which he did not even try to stoically keep the information to himself.

No, she couldn't have it both ways. As his persona, he would use all avenues open to him to get what he wanted, and if he had been undisguised...well, Lucius Malfoy wouldn't just be suffering under the wand of Lord Voldemort right now.

"Will you join me, Walker?" The polite inquiry from the Malfoy heir halted his Mother's words and had Hadrian raising an eyebrow. "Flying." The blonde expanded.

Hadrian was more than half inclined to say no. He certainly didn't want to spend time with his housemate and his pathetic attempts to weasel information out of him. Nor did he like the idea of trying to control a broom with the shakes that came and went and the lethargy that pulled his body down.

"Can you fly, Hadrian?" Narcissa's voice murmured softly.

Draco grinned. "If I remember, Mother, I haven't seen Walker fly since first year. He wasn't very good at it then, still, I can't see Madame Nadine allowing such a situation to go unresolved."

Lady Malfoy nodded once at the comment, agreeing.

Hadrian just wanted to end the tedious conversation as quickly as possible. "Alright, Malfoy." He said sharply.

The shakes calmed.

Fresh air actually sounded really good right about now.

...

"Okay, you guard the hoops and I'll try to get the Quaffle in past you." Draco ordered as soon as the two were up in the air.

Hadrian just stared at his housemate flatly.

"What?"

Hadrian gave a small smile, there was no way he was sacrificing this opportunity for peace and quiet, just to make sure the dark, pureblood heir was adequately amused.

"Sorry, Malfoy." He swung his broom around so that his back was facing the boy, tilting his neck sideways to speak over his shoulder. "I'm rotten at Quidditch, best that you practice by yourself. I'm just going to go fly around the grounds." And without waiting for a reply from the rapidly forming indignant face, he flew off in the direction of the forest situated at the back of the Manor House.

He wasn't bad at flying; Hadrian just wasn't very good either.

The activity had never really appealed to him, but he could certainly see that the freedom of flying might have become a favourite past time if he hadn't experienced a very free childhood with Raven. After being cooped up for days, feeling boxed in, Hadrian closed his eyes, a small smile painted his lips, enjoying the feel of the wind whipping through his hair and across his face.

It was refreshing.

"Walker! Wait up!"

The holler from behind him made him scowl darkly, before he wiped it from his face. At least it _had _been refreshing.

Draco easily caught up with him, slowing down so that he flew about two metres to his right.

"I thought you wanted to practice, Malfoy?"

The blonde shrugged, "I can do that later."

Hadrian smiled widely, his inner frustration evident in the way his facade became just that _little_ bit more aggravating. "Miss my company?"

Malfoy threw him a dark glare opening his mouth to respond, when suddenly a jet of angry, red shot past the blonde, missing by a hair's breath.

Hadrian's eyes immediately swung down to the ground, widening at the sight of a young woman standing just within the cover of trees, a non-verbal hex headed straight for him.

Awkwardly, silently cursing his lack of ability on a broom, Hadrian managed a wobbly loop in the air, narrowly avoiding the spell.

How in Merlin's name did the witch get through the wards?!

"Stupefy!" Hadrian followed the distinctive red spell with his eyes as it flew straight past his easier target, to focus on the pureblood heir at his side.

He gave a small smirk of amusement as he watched Malfoy, his pale, pointed face an open canvas of alarm and dread, perform far more graceful, aerodynamic moves than he could ever hope to.

Perfectly content with being ignored in favour of the 'bigger fish', Hadrian took quick inventory. Short, pixie cut brown hair, bright blue eyes and a petite frame. The attacker might not be wearing auror robes, but if she thought that that was all she needed to avoid detection, she was sorely mistaken. Hadrian had no trouble recognising the traditional spells and ministry taught ready stance.

A cry of pain from beside him drew his attention and Hadrian could only watch with dumbfounded eyes, no time to actually do anything, as the idiotic Malfoy heir allowed himself to be herded beyond the protection of the wards. With the boy's signature keyed in as it was, he passed through the fearsome protections cleanly.

Was the boy a complete moron?!

Two figures materialised from the trees beyond the wards, both aiming spells at Malfoy. A simple strategy, the two wizards having obviously lain in wait until the witch was able to force their prey outside the Manor's protection.

Hadrian surveyed the goings on with a calm air, floating lazily within the safety of the wards. He had no intention of saving the fool from the consequences of his own actions. The idiot would quickly realise what a monumentally stupid move he'd made, allowing himself to be pushed beyond the wards, and concentrate all his efforts on making it back inside his family's protections.

And if the boy couldn't even manage that much; he deserved whatever he got.

Then the peace, with which he had been happily observing the interesting proceedings around him, was shattered, the pixie woman now focusing her entire attention on bringing him down from the air.

Hadrian didn't bother drawing his wand and casting a shield, the spells being thrown at him were practically harmless, more angled towards subduing him than any real physical harm.

In amongst the battalion of coloured lights being shot up at him, his eyes suddenly widened and he pushed the broom handle sharply up, the Obliviate Charm hurtling past him, successfully avoided.

Why that little...!

Glaring darkly, down at the tiny, flittering figure, Hadrian reached behind him to pull his wand from the waistband of his jeans, only to have to clutch desperately at the handle of his broom as his vision suddenly blackened and a wave of intense dizziness overtook him.

Not now!

Shaking hands did their best to hold onto the broom, but he knew he was swaying haphazardly through the air. Hadrian did nothing to try to rectify that situation. Luck, and constant movement was the only thing keeping him safe from the multitude of spells flying past and around him right now.

He hissed softly as his right arm got hit by a burning curse. Through clearing spots, Hadrian managed to see a panicked looking Draco, barely managing to avoid the various coloured spells being shot at him. His sight brightening, Hadrian watched as a cutting curse took Malfoy by surprise, spraying blood across his chest.

And then he was falling.

Hadrian had only a moment to contemplate his options.

He could cross the wards and save the brat, no spell could exit or enter the wards, so he would have to voluntarily cross their boundaries, or, he could let the child fall to his death.

His mouth twisting into a snarl, Hadrian aimed his wand at the woman beneath him and cast a non-verbal punch of air towards her, blasting the witch back through the wards, the protections glowed a faint blue at her contact, alerting the Manor's inhabitants of the intruder.

Then, he was racing past the tree line, his skin tingling pleasantly as he passed the safety of the wards and catching the wrist of the arrogant brat just before he could hit the ground, snapping his neck.

...

Narcissa looked up from her writing desk, setting aside the jade feathered quill when the fire roared and a tall, dark and handsome wizard stepped out of the flames.

She smiled. "Rudolphus." Coming gracefully to her feet, she approached her brother-in-law, lightly kissing both his recently clean shaven cheeks. "How are you?" She inquired feelingly.

She swept her eyes quickly down his figure, noting the way the thrice daily nutrient potions had returned most of his lean muscled frame. His shoulders weren't quite as wide as she remembered from before his incarceration in Azkaban, and he still had some weight to gain, but he was looking remarkably healthier.

Raven, black hair flowed down to his shoulders, the natural shine beginning to re-emerge. Even the wizarding prison hadn't managed to destroy the innate wave at the end of his hair; she observed fondly. Narcissa had always thought Rudolphus's hair looked as if he had just appeared through the wind.

There were more lines around his eyes and mouth, a sign of premature aging for a wizard so young, but it was to be expected. But those dark, mulberry eyes hadn't lost any of their fire, she realised with satisfaction. Indeed, if she were being honest, the shadows that crept into those orbs were numerous and cruel, but she had seen the same hardness in her sister's.

"Well, Narcissa, very well, thank-you." She smiled at the predictable answer. No Le'strange would ever answer anything different. "I'm actually looking for Bella, have you seen her?"

"Can't keep track of your own wife, Rudolphus?" A snarky voice from the room's entrance drew both attentions. "I would suggest that you check the Dark Lord's bedchamber first."

"Severus!" Narcissa snapped icily, her blue eyes flashing.

The oily man simply sneered at the calm Le'strange.

"Not that it is any of your business, Snape, but my wife has been faithful to our marriage since the day we were bound together. Don't take your bitterness at not being able to attract a member of either sex, out on those more fortunate than yourself." Rudolphus's tone might have been light, but there was a dark warning within those words that cautioned against continued insult of wife's character.

Narcissa watched as Severus snorted in disbelief; nevertheless, he was wise enough not to pursue the subject any further.

Many people assumed that her sister was an adulterer. The eldest Black sister possessed a unique sensuality and dark, perilous beauty that she wasn't afraid to use. But that's all it was; teasing, Bella had never betrayed Rudolphus.

Narcissa was well aware of how deeply Bellatrix loved her husband.

"Was there a purpose to your visit, Snape? Or are you just going to stand there dumbly for the rest of the day?" Le'strange smirked darkly.

These two wizards despised each other, always had.

Rudolphus couldn't stand spies, even ones loyal to his cause. He saw them as insects, too coward to stand up for what they believed in. The sentiment had been one her sister had shared long before the two spouses had ever met. It was a sore point between the Malfoy's and Le'strange's, that closeness that the blonde's shared with the sallow, Head of Slytherin.

And although Narcissa hadn't the esteem that Lucius had always possessed for Severus Snape, she had come to respect the wizard for his undeniable talents and fondness for Draco.

Severus smiled thinly, "I had come to drop off my Christmas present for my Godson personally, Le'strange."

"Not invited to the celebrations, then?" Rudolphus inquired with arched eyebrows.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, "Please, gentleman, enough. I do not know why..." Her voice trailed off and her back straightened painfully.

"Narcissa? Are you well?" Her brother-in-law asked sharply, his black wand already in his grasp.

"The wards, there is an intruder." She spoke quickly, already sweeping from the room towards the back patio area, where the protective magic's had indicated the disturbance had originated from.

"Perhaps you ought to stand indoors, Le'strange. You are a wanted criminal, after all." Severus's silky voice suggested insultingly.

A dark, sure voice parried instantly, "I see that even with seventeen years to expand your knowledge on magical theory, Snape, you still do not grasp the most simple of concepts. If it were the Ministry calling, the wards would have alerted Narcissa to a request for entrance. However, seeing as how the wards have classified the person as an intruder, they have neither the authority to be on Malfoy land nor passive intentions, I would think you would know that, Snape."

"Draco!"Narcissa gasped, suddenly remembering that her son had told her he was going flying this afternoon.

Her gasp needed no further explanation. As they raced out onto the back lawn, countless jets of vivid light dazzled the timberline in a kaleidoscope of colour.

...

"Fuck!" A bone breaking curse caught his wrist, shattering the bone. Draco fell from the small height, landing on the soft undergrowth of the forest floor, unharmed.

Hadrian breathed deeply through his nose, furious. Clutching his wrist close to his body, a headache pounded painfully behind his eyes.

Fed up, Hadrian wasted no time, casting a silent reducto at the woman still struggling to her feet from the forceful blast of air he had thrown at her seconds earlier. Her small, finely boned body was lifted clear off the ground and thrown harshly against the Malfoy wards, which might as well have been a concrete wall on this side.

Almost immediately, Hadrian sent a stunner at a tall, red headed man, catching him off guard.

The wizard had screamed at the sight of the woman's broken figure, his side turned to Hadrian. He didn't care if it was unfair or dishonourable. These three certainly weren't playing by any rules of fair combat, so why should he?

From the corner of his eye, Hadrian saw the third wizard reach for the dazed Malfoy heir, no doubt intending to apparate away with his hostage. He raised an eyebrow in muted surprise; Hadrian had already surmised that this attack were the actions of light enthusiasts, to say the least. He was astounded that the venerated 'light' would leave comrades behind.

Yelling interrupted his undecided contemplation on whether he would allow his fellow Slytherin to be taken or not. He was almost certain that the idiot wouldn't be killed and he already had a life debt from the blonde, saving him from being kidnapped wouldn't produce a second.

Deducing that his banishing the witch into the wards had finally summoned the attention of those inside the Manor, he tilted his neck slightly to look behind him.

An almost comical picture of Severus Snape and Narcissa Malfoy coming towards them at a run had the corner of his mouth curling upwards. How undignified. There was a third figure gliding behind them that Hadrian couldn't recognise, but that hardly mattered.

What mattered was that they all had a clear view of the precarious situation the two minors were in and if he did nothing, they would all know the lack of any action on his behalf was entirely deliberate.

Without enthusiasm, his mouth tightening into a thin line at the distressed call of his name from the Malfoy heir's lips, Hadrian began throwing useless stunners, body binds and other low level hexes at the man. Throwing the wizard off and slowing him down, preventing him from reaching his prize.

The startling sound of a bang accompanied Snape's conjured ropes, disarming the would-be-kidnapper.

Narcissa Malfoy didn't even pause to look at the faces of the three downed magic users in her rush to get to her son's side.

Making no move to descend, continuing to hover in the air, Hadrian effectively dismissed the events below him in favour of examining his broken wrist.

Pointing his wand at the injured limb, he muttered a charm which would knit the bone back together. Carefully, Hadrian experimentally twisted his healed wrist; the small jolt of pain reminding him that healing wasn't his specialty. Scowling mentally at the calamity that was Draco Malfoy, he realised that he'd have to be careful with it for a couple of hours or risk re-breaking the bone.

"Get down here, Walker!" The angry demand had him glancing down with narrowed eyes. His Head of House was standing stiffly on the ground, neck tilted back, nostrils flaring, glaring blackly at him.

"Of course, sir!" He shouted back. The loud volume was unneeded and he doubted that Snape caught the barb as it was intended; a mimicry of the Professor's own unnecessarily thunderous bellow.

Narcissa and Draco were still crouched amongst the pine needles, conversing heatedly in hushed tones while the unknown wizard examined the attackers.

Touching down lightly, Hadrian looked at the man bent over the unconscious witch with interest. Who was he? He looked familiar.

"What happened here?" Snape demanded, looking directly at his Godson for an answer.

The Malfoy heir was distracted from his lowered conversation with his mother for a moment, jerking around to stare at the Potions Professor in confusion. Mercury eyes darted between Hadrian, Severus and the knocked out assailant's lying in the cold dirt.

"We were flying..." Draco stated, no stumbling, his voice clear. Hadrian raised a subtle brow at that, not expecting the control from his classmate. "The woman, she breached the wards somehow. Started attacking us, well, me really."

Hadrian concluded that the boy was experiencing shock, his eyes were withdrawn, his voice flat. How pathetic.

"I didn't realise..." For the first time, emotion seeped through the blonde, his fist hitting the ground in self recrimination. "She had ushered me outside the wards before I could gain my bearings and then the other two appeared. I didn't have the time to do anything else, I was dodging. Then..."

The Slytherin seventh year stopped abruptly, turning to look at Hadrian, searching his gaze with wide eyes. Hadrian didn't care what the pureblood was looking for, he wouldn't find it. He would see only what he was showed. Confusion, distress, shock and fear.

Snape had followed his Godson's stare and was now glaring at Hadrian through narrowed eyes. "Where were you through all of this, Mr Walker?" His soft, silky question was filled with innuendos.

"Wal...! I mean,_ Hadrian_," Draco Malfoy cut through Snape with a loud call. He took a deep breath as he broke off his instinctive call of 'Walker!' deliberately emphasising the Malfoy ward's first name. "I was falling, Sev. One of them got me with a cutting curse," he gestured at his bloody shirt, his Mother already having healed the wound.

Narcissa was watching everything in silence, her eyes watchful, showing no sign of rising from her kneeling position next to her son.

"Hadrian caught me." He said seriously, his eyes fluttering between his Mother and Head of House. Then, he locked eyes with Hadrian's dull, green. "He saved my life."Malfoy said strongly.

Hadrian wanted to grimace. The Malfoy heir was staring at him with no mocking, no suspicion, nothing, just respect.

His mask was perfectly in place for the wide-eyed stare that Narcissa swung on him at her son's words. Her blue eyes were shocked, disbelieving and cautious, but there was unmistakable gratitude there as well.

And Hadrian realised that he'd managed more than even a life-debt today. No matter his motivations, motivations which Lady Malfoy was fully aware were almost certainly not inspired by any warm and fuzzy morals; he had saved her son's life today.

"Fascinating." The dry tone caught Hadrian's attention. The unknown wizard had lifted the unconscious witch's neck from the ground and, from what he could see, was now probing her skull with long fingers, searching for any damage. "Snape," Mulberry eyes glanced up at the greasy professor's sneering face, "I've heard that you are somewhat knowledgeable when it comes to the healing arts."

"Can't do it yourself, Le'strange? Pity." The waspish words contradicted Snape's swiftly moving figure. His black cloak flaring out as he crouched over the woman, examining her wounds for himself.

Hadrian looked at the previously unknown wizard with new eyes.

Rudolphus Le'strange.

He could see the resemblance between Rabastan and his older brother now that he knew what he was looking for. They were both attractive men, but Rudolphus possessed a rugged handsomeness that the younger lacked. This man was a formidable wizard. His wife's reputation spoke for itself; but Hadrian had always found Bellatrix's husband far more interesting.

If there was one thing that Raven's teachings on the Dark Lord's inner circle members had taught him, it was that the Le'strange Lord was incredibly loyal. And he respected that.

The Black's might be known for their strong family ties, but Le'strange's were notorious for their loyalty. But what really captivated him, was the fact, that within the cut throat politics of the 'dark', members of that family were famed for being able to inspire the emotion in others.

No Le'strange ever seemed to walk into battle, without someone else watching their back.

That familial quality had captured Hadrian's curiousity from the first.

Then, his Head of House was swearing explosively, moving in a flurry of motion. Hadrian disguised his indifference to what he assumed was his teacher's shock at the witch's condition, easily. He watched as the man hurriedly searched through his robe pockets, finally extracting a small glass vial Hadrian recognised as the blood replenishing potion.

Huh, observing the way Snape poured not one, but two vials down the pixie sized woman's throat, he realised that the damage he had inflicted by blasting her into the wards, must have caused more serious injury than he had first thought.

"What's wrong with her?" Draco asked softly, watching the proceedings with blank eyes.

Was the Slytherin traumatised?

"Her skull has been completely crushed, her brain is swelling and...I want to what happened to put her in this condition, now." The boy's Godfather started off with clipped, clinical words only to end on a judgmental look, flung at the blonde boy.

The other two attackers were still in fine enough health to be questioned; Lady Malfoy wouldn't be too upset if the witch succumbed to her wounds.

"Will she live?" Hadrian shot a look at his classmate, surprised by the hard tone.

Looking at the dark emotions beginning to swirl in mercury depths, he realised that Malfoy was hoping the answer was no.

There was a cruelty there that Hadrian hadn't seen before. He knew that the boy had a vicious side to him, one that had grown as he grew older; he had seen it in the amateur manipulations Malfoy tried to carry out, the way he laughed and the things he found amusing.

The trait was most certainly in him. Hadrian, however, had recognised that the boy was too sheltered to ever view that aspect of his personality with anything other than fear when he realised what it was.

He was willing to concede, that in this instance, he may have been too quick to judge.

He watched with a degree of interest, as Severus Snape caught the same emotion in Malfoy that he did. Saw the way the Potion Master flinched slightly, before expertly covering his reaction.

"How did this happen?" The man ignored Draco's question.

Hadrian shifted on his feet; his wrist was a dull throb that would continue for a few hours more but what he really wanted to do was get in out of the cold. The freezing bite of the air was only exacerbating the stiffness in his limbs, making them ache.

"Hadrian threw a reducto at her, it obviously missed, but, the force of the spell knocked her into the wards." Draco stated with a slight smirk, as if the boy knew exactly how shocking his words were and was going to enjoy the adult's reactions.

Fabulous. Hadrian met the incredulous stare of Lady Malfoy and the building fury of Snape's with faultless innocence and bewilderment.

"Did I...did I really hit her that hard?" Hadrian asked slowly. He even let his mouth fall open a bit when Narcissa jumped in with a rational explanation of adrenaline, accidental magic or specific spell affinity to explain the powerful reducto.

All in all, it wasn't a big issue. Hadrian's mind was already turning back towards the thumping between his temples and the warmth of the Manor's interior, when talon-like fingernails suddenly raked painfully through his hair, grabbing a handful, and shook him roughly.

What in _Darkness's name_...!

"What were you _thinking_, boy?!" A sallow face and large nose were only inches away from him, heavy breathing ghosting across his cheeks. "She needed _two _blood replenishing potions just to make sure her heart wouldn't stop beating!"

Snape didn't take his eyes off of Hadrian for a moment, violently jabbing a finger over his shoulder in the direction of the witch he had disarmed earlier. "You idiot...!" With his other hand, Snape grabbed the collar of his top and pulled him even closer, "You spelled the woman into the wards...into the _wards_!"

Spit flew into his face as the man raged at him.

Hadrian breathed deeply through his nose. The potions master didn't know how lucky he was not to be flying backward into the wards himself right now.

Even with a control that had been honed by years of similar restraint, Hadrian was struggling to contain of his rapidly mounting temper.

"You idiot! You could have _killed_ her! Killed her!"

His stomach lurched from a combination of dizziness from the incessant shaking and heavy breathing in his face. His wrist jarred painfully, trapped as it was between Snape and his body.

Hadrian didn't care if it was shock or something else stopping the others from intervening in this atrocious lack of emotional control and appalling display. And, honestly, Hadrian really didn't care.

Ripping himself free of the restraining grasp of his Professor, he stumbled backwards but righted himself swiftly. Snape, on the other hand, fell back onto the ground, landing ungracefully at his feet.

Hadrian let his wrist slide to his side despite the instinctive urge to cradle the appendage, pushing it close to his body to give it some sort of support. Breathing heavily, he dismissed the furious outrage rising in Snape's reddening features. Using the time it took for the bat to flap his way to his feet, to try to reign in his temper.

"How _dare_ you..."Snape spat dangerously.

Hadrian was pissed; his wrist was throbbing unceasingly, his headache sending shocks of pain across his eyes and he was frigging cold!

Uncaring of the implicit threat in that tone, Hadrian cut him off. "With all due respect Professor," he ground out, staring the other down. "The_ fact_ that she was aiming spells at us, somehow from within the wards, her two companions doing to same. No warning, just three fully grown adults attacking two _children_ yet to graduate from Hogwarts, I didn't really think the tickling spell was going to do it!"

It might be out of character to speak so assertively to his Head of House but everyone had a breaking point. Hadrian was relying on that fact to cover his arse.

Unfortunately, the events that followed could not be explained away so easily.

Snape was furious. Of that there was no doubt, and perhaps that might explain why the very intelligent, cool headed wizard acted as he then did.

It came with no warning.

Hadrian wasn't prepared for the vicious mental assault. Existing as he did, under the radar, he had not been exposed to more than the occasional soft sweeps from his Head of House in the past.

Now, Snape threw his entire mental focus behind the attack, intending to make the illegal intrusion as excruciating as possible. He wanted to hurt the boy for his disrespect. His rage at the fact that Walker, a pathetic Mudblood, was making him look like a fool, humiliating him; blinding him to the brashness of this action.

Why wasn't the cretin cowering?

Why wasn't he ashamed and terrified of the fact that his actions would have killed a woman had he not been there?

But mostly, Severus wanted to know where _this_ Hadrian Walker had come from, the one staring him straight in the eye, unflinching.

And he wanted to know _why_ he had _never_ seen him before.

Hadrian hadn't expected it. Holding back his anger as he was, calming his heartbeat, forcing his practical mind to overcome his heated emotions.

He simply hadn't believed that Severus Snape; cool, collected, methodical Snape, would have the gumption or inclination to launch a brutal Legilimency attack on an underage wizard, in the presence of others.

And so, Hadrian's reaction was instinctive.

Snape's powerful assault met reality; unhidden, impenetrable walls.

Living, wearing a mask so complete it encompassed every aspect of him, meant Occlumency was more than essential. Living under a guise so different from his real personality, within the walls of a castle containing two of the best users of mental magic's, required talent, vigilance and power.

Severus Snape's unthinking action brought him into direct confrontation with those very real defences, triggering them.

Hadrian had more power, talent and resolve than his opponent and it showed.

It wasn't about the effort, it was about willpower.

Total, merciless commitment blocked the mental assault and in the same breath shaped the force, curved it back on its owner and struck back twice as hard.

The automatic retaliation was ruthless.

The fact that Hadrian's instinct was so confidently violent, telling.

It all happened within the blink of an eye.

Snape didn't even have the chance to gasp in pain, the block and subsequent aggression of the mental retaliation gone before any physical symptoms could manifest.

...

Severus and Hadrian stared at each other, breathing heavily.

...

_Excited? ;D_


	22. A Homicidal Bureaucratic Clog

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

...

_I hope the cliff hanger last chapter wasn't too bad and again, thank-you to everyone who reviewed. I've replied to all of you now ;D Cheers!_

_..._

He didn't believe it.

It was not possible...

He could not have_ missed_ something like this!

He didn't believe...

Severus could only stare. His mind felt blank. Unable to comprehend. Unable to rationalise between what he knew and what had just happened.

It was just not...possible!

Walker was staring at him, dull green orbs angry and guarded, his small chest rising with the size and fast pace of his gulps of air.

He knew Hadrian Walker. He knew exactly what and who he was.

He was a Muggleborn with no talent. He had enough magic to pass his classes but he would never amount to anything more than a bureaucratic clog in the Ministry machine.

He was nothing and he would do nothing.

Hadrian Walker was a Slytherin for one reason only. The boy possessed ambition. But it was ambition of the kind that brown-noses' were made of. Ambition that cowards, turncoats, those who lived their life 'wishing' and not doing, possessed in spades.

Walker desired to make something of himself, but was too lazy to actually work for it.

He was detestable.

_That _was Hadrian Walker. _That_ was reality.

So how was it p_ossible_ that that boy, that abhorrent waste of space and magic..., how did he beat him?

"What...do you think, you were doing Professor?" Walker spoke through clenched teeth, one wrist was clenched tightly, knuckles white, pressing strongly against his forehead. As if to physically ward off any subsequent attacks he might launch.

Severus blinked his eyes, trying to regain his mental balance.

"Stay out of my mind."

That cleared the fog. His temper, completely unsettled by what had just occurred sparked, but he smothered it. He had already lost his cool twice today; he wouldn't humiliate himself even further by doing so again.

But by Merlin, he would get his answers.

So intent on his subject, he failed to note the horrified expression his godson was throwing him, or Narcissa's shock which hastily transformed into indecision. And he certainly didn't see the speculating gaze of Le'strange that dismissed him in favour of silently raking the figure of his muggleborn student, with interest in his eyes.

Snape saw none of it. All he could think was...how...how, had he not known this? How was it possible to hide something like this? And why?

"Where did you learn that?!" Severus rose to his feet slowly, the words he spoke soft, a hiss.

Walker's jaw dropped, eyes bugging out of his head as if he'd just asked the most absurd question on the planet."That's all you have to say, Professor? You try to break into my mind, with force and when you're unsuccessful," Snape grimaced at the reminder, his pride rebelling at the mere thought. "You demand to know where I learnt to stop the illegal invasion of a minor's thoughts by another?"

His brow furrowed in incredulity. Where did the boy think he was, in Hogwarts?

He was Lucius's best friend, Draco's Godfather; while Walker was an unwanted muggleborn ward thrust upon them. This was the real world, and in the real word nothing mattered but what you could get away with. Severus had the power here. The Ministry and the law had no voice in this debate.

The only thing that mattered was that Severus wanted answers, and he was in the position to demand them.

Snape smiled darkly, clapping his hands mockingly, "Well done, Walker. You even managed to make a broad reference to wizarding law. But nobody here cares about that. So, answer my question; where did you learn that?"

"You could have seriously damaged my mind, sir. Not to speak of the possible physical harm that might have befallen me due to the blunt character of your assault! You didn't have the right sir, none."

"Do you really think I care about that, Walker?" He asked silkily.

"You should."

Snape swung his head round and sneered deeply at the Le'strange Lord who didn't even have the decency to face him when he spoke.

He scoffed. "Why?"

Le'strange finally turned from his detailed inspection for the muggleborn to fix him with a dark stare, "Because the Dark Lord has ordered that the boy come to no harm while under the guardianship of the Malfoys; by them or any of their...associates."

His face abruptly cleared of all expression as he swung a look at Narcissa. "Why?" His whispered question was for her ears alone, but Le'strange saw fit to answer.

"Instead of sending Narcissa betrayed looks Snape, if you really want to know, why don't you ask our Lord, yourself? You'll be seeing him soon enough."

He bit the inside of his cheek in frustration.

First Raven Nadine nee Black adopted the boy and he didn't know. Then the Dark Lord grants him protection, now this?

He didn't care if it was adrenaline or specific spell affinity that had made the reducto that Walker cast so strong. That wasn't important. It was what he had seen in the boy's eyes when he had grabbed hold of him, the thing that had ignited his anger.

Total lack of regret.

There was fear there, but it was fear for his safety, not the fatal consequences of his actions.

Hadrian Walker wasn't troubled by the fact that his careless actions almost made him a murderer today. There hadn't existed even a hint of anxiousness for that outcome.

The strength of his rage at the realisation surprised even him. The boy was an absolute coward, nothing mattered but his own skin, nothing!

He had been blinded by his rage, infuriated by Draco's look of cruel revenge as he had stared at the unconscious assailants. His reaction was so extreme because, he hated what this war was already doing to all his slytherins.

He didn't care one wit for Hadrian Walker. But in that one moment, when he had stared into unimpressive green orbs uncaring of the harm they had inflicted on another person, unbothered by the fact that even if they had attacked them, it would still be murder if she had died. And he had seen all his slytherins in those eyes. Draco was already becoming desensitised.

Even if you hated the person, even if it was self-defence, you should always feel_ something_. And it frightened him. Because looking into those insipid eyes was like looking into the future.

And his powerlessness to prevent the corruption of his snakes ignited an unreasonable rage that hardly anything was capable of pulling from him.

Then the idiot boy had gone and exacerbated the situation at the worst possible moment.

Suddenly, Walker wanted to show a back bone and it had just fanned the flames. Because his Godson was now looking at Walker with a certain kind of respect, and standing up for himself was only going to increase that respect. Increasing the influence he might have on Draco and he didn't want his Godson to ever react to possibly killing someone with such disregard.

His reason returning with the cooling of his fury had dismissed the concern entirely from his mind.

Draco was just a little awed to now be part of a life-debt, even if not the most rewarding part. Life-debt's were very respected in their society. Draco would calm soon and would no doubt be complaining of Walker boasting about saving him from a dragon, or something equally ridiculous.

In the moment though, the fear had seemed very real and very great.

There was defiance in Walker that had never been there before and he acted without thinking.

He wanted to know exactly who Walker was. Wanted to reassure himself that the boy's backbone wasn't because he had missed something, but just the result of heated emotions.

It had happened so quickly, his ejection from Walker's mind smooth and violent. But those walls...he had sensed their strength.

Now, he was looking down a road where questions were beginning to pile and the Dark Lord had effectively blocked his way to answering them.

"I want an apology, Professor."

The greasy haired wizard drew upright, emerging from his thoughts, taking in a steady breath, black eyes icy. "Excuse me, Walker?" It was low, dark and slow. A clear threat.

He was in no mood.

"I heard what Lord Le'strange said, sir. I have no issue explaining to you how I learnt to defend my mind. But I want an apology first, Professor. You hadn't any right to try to invade my thoughts."

...

Hadrian's mind flew through scenarios, putting his frustrations and anger at the slip behind him for now, in order to concentrate on directing damage control how he wanted to.

Mind magics are based on control. You either knew how to do it or you didn't.

No. It would be pointless and idiotic, not to mention suspicious if he denied something so easy to prove.

Narrowing his eyes, Hadrian came to the fast conclusion that he would have to incorporate this strength into his persona. There was no other choice. The urge to scream in frustration was there, but it wouldn't help.

He had learnt very early in life that you had to work with what you had, not what he wished was the case. It would take some work, but to deny mastery over Occlumency and Letimancy at this point would be far more damaging than trying to come up with a rational, believable, yet, not too incredible explanation for his...atypical skill.

Consequently, he had to lead with the offensive. Meaning...he couldn't let Snape get the first punch in.

Glaring, Hadrian didn't need to feign his anger in the least; he just had to limit it.

His persona was furious. _He_ was _homicidal._

Breathing deeply through his nose, his frail chest lifting with each inhalation, Hadrian could see Snape's mind moving just as fast as his was. He couldn't afford to not set the tone of the interrogation he would no doubt be momentarily subjected to.

"...Stay out of my mind...sir."

They would know soon enough what had just occurred, Hadrian couldn't stop that.

If it was just Snape and Draco he would have attacked, disarmed the two and altered their memories. Severus Snape was an awesome dueller, Hadrian knew that, but he was better.

But together? Narcissa Malfoy could out duel her husband. Not by much, but the Black lineage was strong and talented.

And Le'strange's were known for their prowess in battle. Rumours were that Rudolphus was the best dueller the family had had in generations.

Raven had once admitted that she had her doubts as to the outcome of a duel between Rudolphus Le'strange and herself in her prime. She had smiled when a nine-year-old Hadrian had said that he didn't believe her, laughed and said it was true and in actual fact, she tended to think that the ultimate advantage would not have rested with her.

But Hadrian had surpassed Raven. Surpassed her two years ago.

Spellwork and strategy when duelling came naturally to him. His instinctive ability to analyse his opponents' character, the way they fought, the spells they would favour, had only been honed to a dangerous sharpness through vast experiences with his mask.

He was a brilliant dueller.

If the shakes and dizziness didn't interfere, he believed that he could overcome Rudolphus Le'strange. It certainly wouldn't be easy. But Hadrian had yet to meet a teacher that he couldn't surpass.

All that ever differed was the time it took him to do so.

But all three of them together? With withdrawal symptoms that could appear at any time they damn well please? Within enemy territory, so to speak, where assistance was but minutes away at all times.

It went without saying, that that option would be the height of stupidity and would do nothing but prove to him that the Dark Lord's bond had damaged his mind irrevocably.

He had seen the way Le'strange's dark eyes examined his profile closely. The least Azkaban could have done was scramble the brains of a few of its high security prisoners! A sinking feeling settled in his stomach when he saw curiousity begin to burn behind those mulberry orbs. He'd have to be cautious around the man.

And that's when an opportunity became apparent to him.

Just how grateful to Hadrian was Narcissa, for saving her son's life?

Would it overcome the inevitable growth those suspicions of hers had doubtlessly experienced when her intelligent mind realised that as he stood, Hadrian would have had to have the ability to repel his Head of House's mental attack?

He wanted to know and Hadrian would force her hand if he had to.

He had nothing to lose right now; he was going to have to explain how he possessed the ability to eject Snape so efficiently from his mind, anyway, if he hoped to limit the damage to his mask. But he wanted something at least, to stave off the souring in his belly at this slip.

"I want an apology first, Professor."

It was presumptuous; the three adults surrounding him certainly didn't have morals that would be offended by Snape's actions. But it was guaranteed to make the situation explosive enough that Narcissa would have to step in and take a side.

"Hadrian..."Draco tried to warn with an uncomfortable sounding chuckle. Narcissa's blue eyes darted to her son's anxious form.

Hadrian wanted so dearly to sneer at the greasy man. To rub his nose in the fact that a schoolboy had bested him in an ability Snape held, so arrogantly, close to his heart.

He kept his attention on Lady Malfoy, dismissing the icy threat his Head of House was sending him.

"...I quite agree." Narcissa broke in; right on cue.

Hadrian had to pretend to rub his nose, his satisfied smirk a little too noticeable.

"What were you thinking, performing Legilimency on a minor, Severus? A minor, I would remind you, is in my care?"She asked stiffly.

"Are you telling me that you aren't just as curious to know where he learnt to defend his mind?" Snape parried, clearly insulted to be chastised in such a manner.

Blue eyes narrowed, "Of course I want to know, Severus. I also want to know why you felt it your right to read Hadrian's mind before you found out about that fact."

"Mr Walker does not seem to comprehend the seriousness of his actions. He almost killed a woman today! Nor, the grave consequences that would have occurred to the witch, had I not been here."

"How very idealistic of you." Le'strange simplified with an arrogant smirk of amusement.

"In that case, it is obvious that the boy is right...he deserves an apology." Narcissa stated with a business-like air. She forestalled whatever her husband's best friend was going to say, raising a hand to indicate that she was not yet done. "I will not have Hadrian believe that his guardians will not protect him and do their duty by him when called for, Severus. In this instance, I must insist."

A buttering up if Hadrian had ever heard one.

Snape's jaw clenched tightly, the muscles around his cheekbones shifting under the skin as he glared blackly at the innocently staring Hadrian. "I expect you to answer my questions until I am satisfied, Walker... I _apologise_." He sneered the word.

Knowing he couldn't expect anything better and pleased with the way Narcissa had taken his side, Hadrian nodded silently.

"My Mother taught me." He said simply. "Raven didn't believe in going about the world with an open mind. Certainly you, of all people, would see the logic in that, Professor?" He said softly, without judgment, but not so meek as to make his behaviour so at odds with his earlier sternness.

"My Aunt taught you?" Narcissa sought to clarify, no doubt heading off any sarcastic quip from Snape.

"Yes, Lady." Hadrian spoke subduedly.

"Madame Nadine adopted you?" Le'strange asked sharply. It was a rhetorical question really, all his sister-in-law did was nod and the wizard dropped the subject with a curious air.

"I find it difficult to believe that you could be as skilled in the mind arts as to block my entry, Mr Walker, and yet so inept in your Potions performance. In fact, I would have said that such aptitude was impossible for you. The calmness that one gains through the practise of occlumency compliments potion brewing." Snape watched him with sharp eyes.

Hadrian simply smiled, "Raven was never a fan of Potions, Professor, neither am I. You could say that while I know I do not possess any talent for the subject, further study would improve my skills. I've merely never felt the necessary urge."

It was an insult so well wrapped in 'honest' observation of one's own faults that Snape had no choice, however offended he was, but to gracefully accept his words.

"To put it simply, my Mother demanded that I practice until I could perform the mind arts. If any of you know Raven, she is a hard task-master. It took me years, but I'm told that I have an affinity for the subject." He shrugged in a helpless manner, "It was bound to happen sometime, wasn't it?"

"I don't believe in co-incidences, and I know for a fact that neither does Narcissa."

"What do you want me to say, Professor?" he held his palms out in front of him in a beseeching manner.

Black eyes gleamed and Hadrian wanted to crow as he watched the slimy wizard walk straight into his trap.

"Show me a lesson. Let me enter your mind to view a memory of what you speak of." He stated.

"Fine." He agreed with a casual assurance.

Snape didn't wait, as soon as Hadrian had finished speaking the other was diving into his mind.

Hadrian showed him a memory from when he was twelve, that holidays that he had nearly driven Raven insane. His chaotic emotions had messed with the organisation of his thoughts and his Mother hadn't been impressed to see the state of his mental defences.

Snape didn't know the context of the memory that he viewed; he simply saw a frustrated, irritable Raven Nadine storm out of the room exclaiming that he was hopeless, incapable of taking direction and what did he expect her to do with him?

"Well, Severus?" Lady Malfoy asked as soon as the wizard emerged from the memory.

Snape didn't speak immediately. "...It would_ seem_ that, amazingly, Mr Walker is telling the truth. The combination of a stern teacher, copious time spent practicing and even...a talent for the subject, has apparently done the impossible. Hadrian Walker was able to accomplish something that many wish to become proficient in." His Head of House wasn't satisfied in the least. There was uncertainty in his black eyes and caution, but Hadrian could also see that the man believed most of what he had said.

He knew very well that Severus Snape was above all, practical. He might have doubts, suspicions, a feeling that something wasn't adding up, but his Professor also wouldn't be able to discard the evidence of that memory. His character wouldn't let him.

It was true after all; it's just that the mind magics were hardly the only thing he had studied.

"Thank-you, Hadrian. Not all of us see your actions here today; with anywhere near the negative light Severus sees fit to paint them in." Narcissa ended her words formally, stiffly.

Hadrian nodded mutely, "Who are they?" He asked, drawing the attention away from himself. "Why did they attack us?"

"I would speculate, Mr Walker, was it?"

Hadrian was surprised to even be given an answer, having already drawn his own conclusions concerning the attack; he hadn't believed that the adults would bother including two schoolboys.

But he was now looking into the clear, mulberry gaze of Rudolphus Le'strange. Murmuring a quiet 'yes', his tone sufficiently sad and hesitant to show his reaction to both the violent attack and understandably tentative approach to a convicted dark wizard.

He nodded. "I would speculate that you and my nephew were merely in the wrong place at the wrong time. If this witch could manage to bypass the wards around Malfoy property, I would guess that this was a reconnaissance mission. You two just got in her way."

Hadrian let his eyes widen in slight awe, not too much, before seemingly letting the 'tension' ease out of him.

He had come to the same conclusion, earlier.

Then, total focus was moved to the unconscious attackers.

"Will they all survive transport?" Lady Malfoy asked crisply, staring down at the three bodies coldly.

"Yes." Le'strange answered.

"I want to run some tests on the woman's condition before we move her. She's of no use to us if she isn't even in good enough shape to talk." Snape said.

"That will hardly be necessary, Snape. She'll survive, that's all that matters. The woman will go with her comrades." There was no joking or lightness in the pureblood's tone.

Hadrian felt the shift in authority. It was clear that Le'strange had simply been waiting, clearly on the sidelines, not interested enough with the two boys to become involved. Waiting until what really held his attention was finally addressed.

The three unconscious persons who had attacked Malfoy Manor.

Finding a certain enjoyment in the way Snape looked to be biting his tongue, he realised that Le'strange must outrank his Professor in the Death Eater hierarchy. What the pureblood Lord said, went, that was abundantly clear.

"I want to know _exactly _how she got past the wards without triggering them." Narcissa stated pointedly.

"Of course," Rudolphus was examining the red-haired wizard, "Is he a Weasley?"

"William Weasley, if my memory serves." Snape informed.

"Why are you so concerned for the woman's health, Severus?" Le'strange unexpectedly probed, changing the subject swiftly.

"Keep your accusations to yourself, Le'strange. They are _all_ needed for questioning."

Rudolphus looked up slowly, his eyes penetrating and sharp." How..._thoughtful_ of you." The sarcastic words were said slowly, silkily.

"You will take them, then?" Narcissa asked, and Hadrian realised that Draco and he, as the 'children', had been dismissed from this conversation some time ago.

He glanced at the blonde boy, was Draco used to this sort of thing? Okay with being treated like a five-year-old?

It was an alien sensation to him. Raven had never shielded him from the horrors or realities of their world. On the contrary, she had made sure that Hadrian was a prepared for the second rise of Voldemort as she could.

She was the reason why Hadrian hadn't blinked at the lack of news in the press about the Dark Lord's return. Raven had a unique perspective on both sides of the war, more of a rounded insight than most.

Hadrian hadn't just learnt about the Dark Lord's followers, he had learnt of Dumbledore's too. It was necessary to know your potential opponents in case confrontation arose.

Raven had given him all the information she could, in order to do that. Notions of things too gruesome or violent for a ten year old to know held no place in their two person family.

"Yes, I will take them."

"The floo, Severus...there's no need to leave the protection of the wards to apparate." Narcissa ordered, gazing at her husband's closest friend guardedly.

Hadrian watched with amused interest, noting the tick of irritation in the Potion Master's jaw as he realised the reason behind the nicely wrapped order. The man's precarious position satisfied a small piece of the anger simmering in him for the wizard...it wasn't near enough though.

For a long moment, Hadrian gazed once more at the three on the ground before he moved to follow the retreating figures of the Malfoys as they walked slowly back towards the Manor.

"Walker!"

Hadrian turned; beyond irritated, beyond cold and that black spot in front of his eyes was growing again.

Le'strange struck an impressive figure beside the pasty Severus Snape.

"Yes, sir?" He asked.

"I can trust that my presence here will not be mentioned by you, can I not?" Dark, mulberry eyes stared at him steadily and Hadrian wondered if this wasn't part of the Le'strange ability to inspire loyalty.

The small, seemingly insignificant gesture was perfectly executed. He could appreciate the art of the timing, tone and informal words. They inferred a sense of casualness that would never actually exist between his persona and the inner circle death eater.

If he really was exactly what he seemed, a talentless Muggleborn with ideas of grandeur and awkward social skills, Hadrian imagined that having such singular focus, from the undeniably charismatic wizard before him, would have struck him speechless.

He would be awed and thankful that such a pure, powerful wizard addressed him directly, free of scorn.

He would surely be enamoured with Rudolphus Le'strange.

Hadrian smiled goofily, "Wouldn't dream of it, sir."

He was also confident, that the legendary Le'strange Lord knew that too.

...

Bill couldn't stop screaming. His throat was raw, his nerves were shot and his blood felt like it was boiling in his veins. And all he could hear was laughing.

They were laughing!

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, when his back arched so far off the ground only to collapse in on itself as his body went into uncontrollable spasm, when his ears hurt from the deafening sound of his own cries, it stopped. Mercifully, it stopped.

He breathed. He breathed deep, great gasping, gulps of air, trying desperately to prevent his breaths from becoming sobs.

And then that voice came.

Again.

A voice that had no business sounding as sweet or lovely as it did.

A voice that would deliver pain if he didn't answer its questions. And Merlin help him...he didn't think he could face another crucio.

"Come on William, don't you want the pain to stop?...It can, you know. I can stop. You just have to answer some questions."Bellatrix was unrelenting.

An assortment of the same bribe or threat had been put to him, interspersed by agonizing torture, from the moment he had woken in this hell-hole.

But this was the first time William Weasley hadn't in some way, verbal or not, indicated that he refused to cooperate.

He wanted to. He wanted to have the courage to ignore the pain; to dismiss what he knew was coming.

He had been sure that he possessed the necessary fortitude to withstand and not break under torture. He had been sure.

He couldn't bring himself to beg...not yet, but Bill also couldn't make the 'go to hell' that was stuck in his throat come out.

He was scared.

Le'strange caught the change immediately.

"How did your friend get past the wards around Malfoy Manor, William?" Her voice was achingly gentle, sweet even and he silently cursed the witch.

Because lying on the stone floor, knowing the Dark Lord was sitting in a throne-like chair just observing, surrounded by formidable, cruel wizards and witches, tears running unceasingly down his face...that beautiful voice was a comfort.

And he hated her more for that, then her Unforgivable torture curse.

He moved his neck, the muscles screaming in pain, to look at the exposed, unconscious bodies of his comrades.

He'd always believed that he'd never talk.

Never.

"She's Nymphadora Tonks. Narcissa Malfoy's and...your niece." His voice was a croak, hoarse.

Bellatrix drew back at his answer, her eyes swivelling to look at the still unaware, female form with new eyes.

"She looks nothing..." She spoke softly, to herself, before stopping suddenly, understanding lighting up her black eyes. "A Metamorphmagus..." She spoke loudly, mockingly, and Bill could barely stand it. "To think," She chuckled darkly, "my pathetic, muggle-loving sister produced a brat which inherited the Black family gift. I can just imagine Andromeda's face now. Wiped from the family line, no longer any claim on the name, happy with her _Muggle _husband...and her darling daughter has the Black gift."

She was staring at her niece heatedly; her rage practically tangible and Bill wanted so badly to smirk at her.

Pour salt in her wound. Rub in her face the clearly infuriating thought that Muggles had infected her pure bloodline. That the product of such an abominable union had produced a witch, a half-blood, with an ability none of her pureblood relations could claim.

A sharp click echoed through the hall.

All eyes immediately focused on the sitting figure of the Dark Lord.

He was resting his chin on one hand, the other tapping a fingernail against the chair's arm.

"Mr Weasley," Any humour abruptly fled at the sound of that soft call.

Bill could literally _feel _the blood draining from his face as he looked into cruel, crimson eyes for the first time.

Merlin help him.

"Even if your companion had shared blood with Lady Malfoy, no matter its tainted state, that alone would not grant her access to the property." Lord Voldemort's tone was conversational, almost as if a teacher conducting an intellectual debate among students.

His breathing picked up. His already fast heartbeat found a new depth of fear and accelerated its pace.

"She's an animagus." He gasped suddenly, unable to last under that crimson stare. He bowed his head in defeat. He'd broken. "A rabbit. That, combined with her blood, enabled me to manipulate the wards, confuse them long enough for her to slip through without injury."

The Dark Lord smiled darkly. "I commend your innovative thinking, Mr Weasley." And for some unfathomable reason...Bill felt...important, proud at those words.

Disgust followed swiftly. But, for the first time, he realised that it wasn't just fear that made powerful and intelligent people follow Lord Voldemort. The man made you want to please him. And that was a seductive draw.

"But then again," Voldemort leaned back. "We both know that this particular plan wasn't your idea, don't we? No, this has Dumbledore written all over it."

Bill stiffened at the slur directed at his leader.

Albus Dumbledore was a great man. He had helped and supported his family through the years; his name was being dragged through the mud because, against all predictions, Voldemort was keeping quiet. They had needed information. That is why they had been sent.

The reminder sparked an ember of defiance in him that Bill hadn't known was still there.

The Dark Lord's eyes flashed in small excitement at the return of a little of his prisoner's earlier fire. It was as if the man _enjoyed_ the fact that he was willing to fight him.

"And what, Mr Weasley, does Dumbledore want to know so badly he would risk the lives of three of his people?"

Bill knew that they would get their answers, one way or another and this wouldn't be news.

"The identity of your moles in the Ministry." He stated as strongly as he could manage through his destroyed throat.

Bill watched those unsettling orbs closely, wanting to see some disquiet, but there wasn't any.

"And the Potters? What do you know of them?"

An image of his youngest brother's best friend flashed through his mind. Curly red hair, hazel eyes, wide smile...

"Nothing." He croaked.

Voldemort smiled slowly at his loyal answer and Bill felt his panic increase. His body had never been in so much pain before and he knew that his answer had guaranteed him another crucio from Bellatrix Le'strange.

But he was also proud of himself. Terrified, absolutely terrified. But proud.

"Have you ever crushed your skull, Mr Weasely?" Voldemort rose from his chair slowly, his eyes glittering dangerously. "It's very painful. The pressure on your brain sends shocks of agony down the neck, seizing the muscles in the chest and back. The rib cage forced into a hold so tight, you can't breathe."

Bill couldn't make his eyes look away from the glowing, ruby, shining with pleasure. He didn't want to hear this.

"Remorseless nausea brings burning acid up your throat as you heave, your body fighting against its own constraints. The movement sometimes even shifts fragments of the broken skull."

Bill forced the air in through his nose, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.

He wouldn't break. He would not break.

It couldn't be worse than the Cruciatus Curse, he told himself firmly. He was sure!

But he wasn't, and you can never really lie to yourself. Some part of you always knows.

Crimson orbs laughed down at him, shining with truth, with knowledge of his weakness.

"The magnitude of that physical pain has been described as a white heat, so intense, that it blinds you seconds before the shock shuts down the body. The person returns to unknowing oblivion, untouched by the hurt."

...

"I can't..." Bill heard the distressed plea in his own voice, saw the unaffected visage of Lord Voldemort and knew he wasn't ready for this.

It was worse, knowing what was coming. It was so much worse.

But he couldn't tell them. He wouldn't.

He refused to be the one that broke. He was a Weasley, and Weasley's were loyal.

And yet, he didn't want this. He didn't want to feel the torture that the Dark Lord had promised him in vivid detail.

"I can't." He repeated.

Staring up at the silent Dark Lord, Bill set his jaw, jutting it out. "_I won't_." His words were a promise.

Dark, handsome features morphed into a smirk. "Are you sure about that?"

Bill nodded stiffly, unable to speak.

He expected a bone breaking curse in the back of the head, to be thrown across the hall and hit the wall, but nothing happened.

In an unexpected move, Lord Voldemort stepped away from him.

And red eyes, darkening with cruel pleasure, focused on the still form of Tonks' injured figure.

Cold horror took the air out of him and he didn't react in time.

"Enervate."

...

Oblivious to his own hurts, Bill reached towards the woman with a desperate hand. Her eyes shot open, the power behind the spell enormous and bringing her to full working consciousness immediately.

Bright, blue orbs were wide and unseeing as she stared up at the ceiling.

Then her mouth opened.

And she screamed.

It was horrific.

She screamed and screamed, it didn't stop. There wasn't a whimper, a yell, a break.

It was one ceaseless scream.

"Stop! Stop!" Bill gave no thought to his painful throat, his watery eyes locked on the body of his girlfriend. And suddenly, the Dark Lord's words held new meaning.

"_The magnitude of that physical pain has been described as a white heat, so intense, that it blinds you seconds before the shock shuts down the body. The person returns to unknowing oblivion, untouched by the hurt."_

She couldn't escape it. The Dark Lord was forcing her body to remain conscious where it would never naturally be capable of doing so.

"Stop!...Stop!" He cried, her screams ringing in his ears and suddenly pride and not breaking meant nothing to him. Nothing. "I'll tell you!" He shouted as loudly as he could, frantic to be heard, desperate to stop her torture.

His pride meant nothing.

"Then tell me." He somehow heard the Dark Lord's soft words over the terrible shrieks of pain. "What do you know of the Potters?"

"They're training Landon! I don't know where!...B-but! I know that Dumbledore has Flitwick teaching him duelling! And his Father and Godfather are working on the animagus transformation with him. That's all I know, I swear! I swear!" He sobbed, not caring about withholding his tears in front of his enemies now. The only thing he cared about was Tonks.

"Yes, I believe that is all you know." Bill sagged with relief. "Avada Kedavra"

Tonks fell silent.

"No!"

...

Lucius watched from his place next to the wall as William Weasley went to pieces over the death of his wife's niece.

He didn't know why the young man was acting so shocked. Had he thought that he would get out of this room alive?

"Lucius."

He looked up into the eyes of his master and couldn't help the small feeling of bitterness at the reminder of his earlier punishment and the reason why. Still, he could understand, he had disobeyed direct orders. He should have had more control.

If he didn't know any better, he would say that Walker had successfully manipulated him into receiving this punishment.

It had that familiar feeling, that disturbing sensation of having just been manipulated. Lucius hadn't felt that knowing itch that something wasn't right, that it had happened too smoothly, for quite some time.

It wasn't often that someone got the better of him. And Walker couldn't have anticipated that he would lose his temper or act to physically harm him at that particular moment anyhow.

Still, suffering the Dark Lord's punishment while the reason for it slept soundly in a comfortable bed under his own roof, grated.

"Yes, My Lord?" Stepping forward he kept his voice cool, showing no evidence of his small hostility.

Crimson regarded him knowingly. "Mr Weasley is yours to do with as you will, so long as you kill him within twenty four hours."

The blonde's eyes widened. His Lord must have picked up on his confusion, "I gift my followers as quickly as I punish, Lucius. The man was a determined trespasser on your land, almost caused the death of your heir. Unless, you do not want him?"

"No, My Lord! I mean," He cleared his throat. "Thank-you, Master." He bowed low, and suddenly the trembling in his left arm didn't chafe at him any longer.

Had the man known? Lucius knew that the Dark Lord possessed skills that surpassed him on every level. It wouldn't surprise him if this had been a calculated action designed to kill any lingering resentment he felt for his earlier punishment.

It also wouldn't surprise him to know that it was a deliberate move that accomplished five other things at the exact same time.

"It is fortunate, that your actions last night did not instil any lasting animosity in Hadrian Walker, Lucius, is it not?...He could easily have let your son fall to his death, staying safely within the wards."

The Malfoy Lord swallowed at the disquieting truth of those words. He hadn't looked at it that way.

"It is, My Lord." He spoke his agreement softly, bowing his head, missing the flash of triumph in crimson.

...

Ian Kildare watched the exchange between Lord Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy with disinterest. He'd already made up his mind about the blonde wizard earlier.

They had been in the midst of finalising the unprecedented alliance between his coven and Lord Voldemort when a knock on the double door entrance had interrupted them.

He wouldn't claim that seeing three unconscious magic users being floated in accompanied by two wizards wasn't intriguing. He couldn't care less about the 'skinned knees' of the Malfoy heir or ward, and it hadn't taken long to establish the events which had occurred over at the Malfoy property.

But he was interested in seeing how Lord Voldemort would handle this.

The initial observation had been in an attempt to distract himself from the acidic scent emanating from the five figures. While Bellatrix laughed gleefully, intent on her prey, Ian brought his speculating gaze to rest on the Malfoy Lord, determinedly ignoring the irritating tingle in his nose.

Lucius's expression was stony as he watched the torture.

Upon hearing of his son's life debt Malfoy's expression had immediately closed, coolness replacing concern. Only a witch or wizard would possess the arrogance necessary to feel more goaded by the obligation such a debt would demand, than humbling gratitude for the action itself.

Ian wanted to scoff at the ridiculousness of wizards.

A life-debt was a very powerful connection. It forged alliances where none would have been feasible, it forced people to change and compromise. It was a bond governed by wild magic. Its power could not be harnessed, manipulated or controlled. It was beyond that.

Movement from the corner of his eye distracted him from his derisive thoughts. The red-haired wizard was dragging himself across the floor, body overtaxed from three consecutive crucios, to reach what smelled like his mate.

A red stunner from Lucius hit Weasley, halting his determined progress.

Ian watched closely as the Dark Lord moved to stand over the third attacker and, without fanfare, silently enervated the scruffy looking wizard.

The man didn't even have time to establish where he was or how very much he wished he could go back and re-do this day, before Voldemort was diving straight into his mind.

It lacked the entertainment value the younger wizard had given, but Ian understood the boredom of monotony better than most.

Living as long as he had gave him a unique understanding of how tedious it must be for the Dark Lord to always get his way.

He had no doubt that Lord Voldemort liked things done his way, but at some point, the lack of challenge, your inescapable superiority to everyone around you in practically all areas became... tedious. Still, his prospective ally had a whole war to distract him from that reality, for the moment at least.

The Dark Lord let the man drop to the floor.

"And _this_ is the wizard, young Mr Walker was incapable of incapacitating." The Dark Lord chuckled lowly.

Feeling uncomfortable with his lack of understanding, Ian checked to see if any of the others knew what was so humorous. Seeing nothing but puzzled frowns and disinterest mollified him slightly.

"Yes, My Lord. I had to step in before he managed to apparate away with Draco." Ian didn't know the wizard who stepped forward and volunteered the information, but he had a feeling the man was regretting drawing attention to himself now.

"Is that right, Severus?" The Dark Lord glanced up at his follower with an unreadable stare, "Did you see the boy disarm the other two?"

"No, My Lord. But Draco, my Godson, told us that it was Walker's missed reducto that..." Snape cut off when his master raised a hand. They had heard all this already.

"Miss Tonks certainly must have irritated the boy to get such an..._obvious _reaction. Mr Walker always seems to have such an impressive hold over his own emotions." The Dark Lord was watching the female corpse with a small smirk of humour.

Strange choice of words.

He didn't have time to ponder on that, or on Snape's fleeting frown of confusion, because the Dark Lord suddenly turned and pierced him in an intense stare.

Ian felt the urge to lower his eyes in submission but resisted.

It was his vampire nature that called for such obvious signs of surrender. Although he was certain that Voldemort would recognise the gesture for what it was, Ian also knew that humans didn't expect deference to be showed in the same way.

"Kildare, to celebrate our alliance, I gift you with the blood of Mundungus Fletcher."

The formal words took him by surprise.

It was tradition in vampire culture to always seal a deal with the drinking of blood straight from the neck. Normally, there would be humans equal to the number of parties in the contract. For obvious reasons, this sealing would require only one life. And a wizard at that.

How did the Dark Lord know so much about vampire customs?

Hiding his confusion, he bowed his head, "Thank-you, My Lord." He waited just long enough to establish that the Dark Lord did indeed intend for him to enjoy his gift now, before gliding swiftly over to the moaning wizard.

The terror and pain of the torture earlier had aroused his appetite and he knew his eyes had been glowing red with blood lust for a while now.

But he was old. He could control himself where others wouldn't be capable. Still, a free meal was a free meal. And it was his favourite. Magical Blood.

Ian jerked Mundungus Fletcher's collar roughly to the side and, wasting no time, his hunger great, sank his fangs into the warm neck of his prey. His hold on the struggling body pressed tightly against his own, an embrace that could have been mistaken for one of passion.

He drank quickly. He didn't trust them enough to take his time and savour his meal like he wished to.

The blood was delicious, but that _smell...!_

Finishing his meal with a disgusted grimace, he shoved the body away roughly. "They _all_ stink of Potions!"

Bellatrix laughed, "I'm not surprised with Snape standing right next to you, Kildare. The man refuses to bathe. Even we mere humans can smell the potion waft in his trail."

Snape glowered, but didn't say anything.

"I wouldn't be surprised." Kildare murmured, wiping blood from his lips. "The stink is _all _over you, Snape."

...

He was pleased.

Who knew that the eldest Weasley wouldn't be trusted with the Potter's location but the thief would.

And of course, he had the deceptive Hadrian to thank for his informative catches.

Looking down at his palm he traced the line that had been there only yesterday. Nothing but unmarked skin remained.

A slow smirk tugged up the corner of his mouth.

Perhaps a talk was in order.

...


	23. Would You, My Lord?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Refusing to accommodate the painful ache seemingly imbedded in his thigh and calf muscles from the terrible cramps which had woken him last night, Hadrian crossed the marble foyer of Malfoy Manor at a brisk pace, heading towards the library.

"Hadrian!"

Turning towards the echoing call, he suppressed his wince, silently cursing as a spike of pain lanced through his head. The amplifying effect of the entrance hall meant that voices didn't need to shout in order to be heard clearly across the wide expanse. In retaliation of the clever engineering fact, the clear ringing sound seemed to cut into his head sending a pulse of revenge between his temples.

There, standing in the doorway to the small parlour were Lord and Lady Malfoy.

Hadrian straightened slightly, "Yes?" he asked, nothing but mild curiousity coloured his tone.

Lucius tilted his head to the right indicating that he was to follow them as they both stepped into the parlour behind them, leaving the white door ajar.

Hadrian cocked a single eyebrow at the unexpected summons, but moved to follow. If nothing else this would prove to be a distraction from the increasing ache in his limbs.

As he walked into the small room he felt a silencing ward rise, and had to keep from narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Hadrian gave no indication that he had felt the privacy spell come into effect disappointing Narcissa's sharp scrutiny.

He was no amateur to be caught out so easily.

"Mr Walker..." Lucius was interrupted by a discreet cough from his wife and Hadrian watched with a small amount of humour as the blonde man seemed to shoot Narcissa a glower before re-arranging his expression into a far more pleasant visage. "..._Hadrian_, your presence has been...requested."

Hadrian didn't need to hear who had requested it to already know the answer, but asked the expected question anyway.

"By who?"

Narcissa stood elegantly from the pure white love seat and stepped towards him. Her sky blue eyes ran slowly over his facial features, drinking them in, judging him.

"The Dark Lord." She spoke softly, as if to minimise his alarm.

The pureblood witch took a slow, careful step so that she was directly in front of him. Raising a pale hand, she seemed to think better of the personal contact, letting the partially raised limb fall back to her side.

"I'm certain that he only wants to ask some questions about the attack yesterday, Hadrian. You should just answer his queries as wholly and truthfully as you are able." She coached with serious eyes.

Hadrian felt a laugh bubble in his chest. She was worried about him! Perhaps despite her better judgement and her own natural caution, but still, she didn't wish to see him harmed.

Letting his own nervousness, pushed to a higher level, and a stark terror dominate his eyes, he swivelled his gaze to take in her husband.

Unsurprisingly, Lucius Malfoy was gazing at him coldly with icy distain shining from his eyes. The man wasn't itching to murder him anymore, but the blonde wizard would be very happy to hear that the forthcoming meeting had been a painful one for him.

"Thank-you, Lady." Hadrian let his voice tremble, enjoying the way Narcissa's sky blue orbs softened even further at his show of vulnerability.

Truthfully, he was both dreading and anticipating this meeting.

On the one hand, Hadrian knew that what he had managed to accomplish was a remarkable feat and he felt all the pride, satisfaction and pleasure that came along with that knowledge. On the other hand, Lord Voldemort wasn't known for his...patience.

He knew from their late night encounter during the ritual itself that the dark wizard had been truthfully impressed by his hastily crafted attempt to escape his control. Even if the Dark Lord didn't know exactly what he had done that night, the powerful magic in the air, his familiarity and confident actions during the ritual, that the man had spied, were telling.

Nevertheless, although Voldemort was undoubtedly one of the most complex individuals, if not the most complex he had ever encountered, he did know one thing about the man's character. He wouldn't take kindly to being thwarted, no matter in how small a way.

They had that in common.

"We will be apparating...Hadrian," Lord Malfoy seemed to struggle to get his first name out under his wife's cool gaze. "Come." He beckoned with his hand and Hadrian had to bite his tongue against his protest of being called like a dog as he moved forward.

A warm hand with hard nails clamped onto his shoulder and he was being sucked through the familiar straw of apparation.

He landed hard on the floor, bending his knees so that they could absorb the shock, despising the slight tremble in his legs that threatened to give out beneath him, and looked up.

Lucius Malfoy was already sweeping past him heading towards a large open archway that led to a throne room come hall.

Taking in the dark halls around him with curiousity, Hadrian was surprised to realise how warm the Dark Lord kept his dwelling. Somehow he'd always pictured the wizard as the type to enjoy the cold.

Trailing after his guardian, he didn't even have to fake the nausea of a person unfamiliar with apparating, seemed that the withdrawal symptoms were handling that otherwise needed deception for him.

Raising a hand to push back the sweat dampened bangs of his fringe, Hadrian stiffened as the burning warmth of his forehead registered. He was running a fever.

He exhaled silently, this was to be expected. He wasn't just dealing with the stress of addiction withdrawal, but his body was also attempting to mend whatever damage the toxic ingredient in the Greccas Trillium potion had done in his system.

It occurred to him that his fever made accurately assessing the air's temperature almost impossible. Fabulous, he thought wryly. He quickened his slowed pace, knowing that this was just something he had to deal with until his body and magic managed to heal.

As he drew closer to the open arch Malfoy had disappeared through, Hadrian felt blessedly cool tendrils of dark magic floating closer, slowly encompassing him, beckoning him towards the magic's owner.

Without hesitation, Hadrian stepped across the threshold.

"...check with the foreign goods department, I want to know any new procedures they might have in place to prevent smuggled items entering the country." The Dark Lord was standing, bent over a simple wooden table, papers strew across its large surface as he spoke to the blonde death eater at his back.

"Yes, my Lord." Lucius bowed deeply.

What could the Dark Lord possibly wish to bring into England that he wasn't capable of warding against detection himself?

But then blood red eyes looked up and focused on him.

_The Dark Lord's lips were inches away now, crimson; bright as they stared down at him intently; calculating. "I look forward to finding out exactly how much you've been holding back, Hadrian Walker..." _

_Then, his lips were claimed. _

The unwanted memory pushed its way to the forefront of his thoughts without permission while Hadrian struggled not to show any physical reaction.

The Dark Lord smirked. "Leave us, Lucius, I'll notify you through your mark as to when Mr Walker is ready to be collected."

Hadrian noted the simple nod and lack of gloating expression from Malfoy with the small realisation that perhaps his guardian's more informal address earlier was not solely influenced by his wife.

As soon as the pureblood exited, the doors slammed shut, locking.

Hadrian's posture of quiet submission and fear induced muteness never altered.

He didn't trust the Dark Lord's silent invitation to drop his mask with his tacit promise of privacy.

A low, dark chuckle curled around the edges of the large space, "Don't you trust me, Mr Walker?" His tone was darkly amused and indulging.

Hadrian lowered his eyes slightly as he stretched his magic out slowly, subtly. If there was any person hiding within the room among its shadows or dressed in spells, he'd find them. His touch was feather light; clever enough to escape detection or warn any would be spies of what he was doing until it was too late and he had already found them.

It took only a few seconds until Hadrian was satisfied that only the Dark Lord and he would know what occurred here today.

"...Would you trust you, my Lord?" The dark and cultured tenor of Hadrian's natural voice posed the question quietly.

Bright, white teeth flashed in a vicious, wolf like grin and Hadrian felt a smirk of answering amusement pull at his lips.

Any person watching at that moment would have been struck dumb with the transformation that unfolded without any visible or verbal signal.

The half-cowering boy staying stubbornly on his feet, trying to be brave and strong, head bowed slightly, as if he couldn't bring himself to meet those demonic eyes staring at him in anticipation, was discarded as efficiently and easily as one would a cloak.

The boy's back and neck straightened, eyes fluttered closed for but a moment as he rolled his left shoulder up to his ear in a languid movement that mimicked a stretch, or perhaps the easy elegance of a lion waking.

Fingers that had previously been tugging at the hem of his black jumper abruptly halted their nervous habit, dropping to come to a confident stop at his sides.

But the most significant change, were the eyes. Boring, unimpressive olive retained their colour, yet rose with the suddenly proud, elegant posture to meet darkening red head on.

Hadrian saw a spark of irritation in those unique eyes before it flittered away. He wondered if the Dark Lord was annoyed that he had refused to drop the physical attributes of his persona or if it was because Hadrian was staring him straight in the eye, submission bereft from his character.

Perhaps both?

Lord Voldemort was still standing, leaning over the wooden table with both arms braced on its surface in front of him as he considered Hadrian silently.

"I was surprised to hear how you involved yourself with the scuffle at Malfoy Manor yesterday." The dark wizard spoke with a casual lilt to his voice, "I would have thought you far more likely to simply watch as the young heir fell on his own sword, as it were."

Small talk. They were actually beginning with small-talk. The surrealism of the moment and the topic of the polite conversation seemed at odds, but somehow, it worked.

"The witch tried to wipe my memories." Hadrian's natural cadence saturated the words of his own courteous reply.

Voldemort sent him a knowing look. "Hm, yes, I can see why that particular action might prompt you to intervene...You don't like losing control, do you Mr Walker?"

"Do you?" Hadrian countered skilfully.

The Dark Lord hummed in agreement, eyes locked on his. "Rudolphus tells me that not only did you wrangle from the Malfoy heir a life-debt, but you also knocked out two of the three attackers and ejected Severus from your mind." Was that anger that brightened ruby orbs? "All only done in the space of an hour and somehow managing to not expose yourself, but turn the situation around so that only suspicions are what they have of you." A slow smirk curled Voldemort's lips upwards. "Well done." He praised.

Hadrian bit his tongue to stop the flippant remark about patronising, arrogant Dark Lords and managed a tightly controlled. "Thank-you. I've had practice."

The cold flame of his anger flared at the reminder of Snape's vicious attempt to mind rape him, but Hadrian clamped down on his ire strongly. He wasn't about to let the Dark Lord find out how much he wanted Snape to suffer for his unthinking actions._ He_ would be the one to make Severus Snape's life a living hell.

Voldemort might not approve of the vengeance he had planned for his Potions Master and Hadrian wouldn't put himself in the position of having to disobey the man's instructions if he didn't have to.

"Indeed."

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his temple and he watched with displeasure as Voldemort honed in on it like the evidence of weakness that it was.

Crimson eyes narrowed in thought as they followed its slow movement down his cheek where it curled under his jaw, moving steadily down his neck until, at last, it made contact with the absorbent fabric of his clothes.

A piercing stare, rife with suspicion locked with his own.

And Hadrian was suddenly very aware of the slight shaking on his right middle finger and thumb and the headache threatening at the base of his skull.

"Are you too warm, Mr Walker?" It was a threatening croon which had the added, no doubt deliberate, effect of making a light fog in the air as the breath left the Dark Lord's lungs.

He took some satisfaction in the fact that he'd been right. Voldemort was definitely the type to enjoy freezing temperatures.

Hadrian just shook his head, "No, my Lord." When the man just raised an elegantly disbelieving eyebrow, Hadrian flashed him a charmingly crooked grin.

"Your summons for my immediate presence was so _anxious _that I didn't wish to tarry and cause you issues. Such quick activity on my part has unfortunately revealed one of the drawbacks of my prompt appearance before you now...Obedience, it would seem, has its own disadvantages."

Hadrian deliberately kept his eyes wide and innocent. They both knew that he was lying and his insinuation that the Dark Lord had summoned him in a panic of worry was impertinent at best. But, Hadrian had no intention of letting the possibility of his body's current withdrawal become known.

"It would seem that you are fishing for compliments, Mr Walker. That you were so very _accommodating_ as to appear so swiftly before me is very much appreciated. We can only be thankful that your schedule allows you such _flexibility_." The artful implication that Hadrian lacked purpose or importance at Malfoy Manor was both pointed and sharp.

For just a moment, both emerald and ruby gleamed with the shared pleasure of verbally sparing with an opponent that was expertly skilled in the art of conversation.

Voldemort surveyed Hadrian's confident figure in the silence that followed, deciding whether to pursue the obvious lie now, or move on to the actual issue Hadrian had been summoned here to discuss. If the wizard was waiting for Hadrian to betray himself somehow, he'd be waiting a long time.

When the handsome figure straightened, walking around the table to lean back against it and looked down at his palm, tracing a scar line that no longer existed, Hadrian knew that for now the Dark Lord had other things on his mind.

"I must admit, the thought of using a siren amulet to manipulate a bond had never crossed my mind before. Your solution was very original."

Hadrian raised a brow; he hadn't expected the man to discover his method of success so quickly. The Dark Lord picked up on his interest and smirked.

"Knowing runes as well as I do led me to my answers, Mr Walker. Though, I do wonder if your young female friend is aware of the treasure she gave up."

The small flash of guilt Hadrian felt was caught by the Dark Lord and he nodded as if pleased with his discovery.

"It is a pity to know that you managed to disable all of the directives, bar one, that I had instilled within the magic. Still," Voldemort's voice was considering and calculating as he ran his eyes up and down Hadrian's frame as if mentally peeling away the layers to the reality he knew existed beneath the mask. "I find that I can appreciate the intent and skill behind the attempt."

Hadrian watched the excited gleam attempting to hide within those ruby eyes with shrewd intelligence.

Why was the Dark Lord so...pleased? The notion was ridiculous, except that he recognised the air surrounding the man as one of undeniable satisfaction. "Or maybe..." Hadrian spoke slowly, measuring the wizard's reactions closely, suspiciously. "You were even _hoping_ that I find a way to escape the bond?"

For a moment, crimson eyes took on a disbelieving look, as if surprised by the mere idea of such underhanded tactics. But, Hadrian's stare never wavered and slowly amused approval bled into those cruel eyes overcoming their fake counterparts.

He had to turn his eyes away lest the Dark Lord see his rage as he laughed softly, confirming his theory.

"You are extraordinarily quick, Mr Walker. Very impressive." The honest praise did nothing to sooth his ire. "If you didn't manage to escape the property bond, I had a powerful, intelligent wizard under my control, but if you did..." Voldemort was practically purring with pleasure at this point. "If you managed to find a way to circumvent the bond, while in pain and under the stress and pressure of living and hiding under the Malfoy's roof...? Why then, I'd know you were..._different_."

Hadrian didn't even bother to hide his glare, detecting an emotion in that last word he couldn't interpret. "You certainly do like your tests, don't you?" He stated boldly.

The Dark Lord raised a mocking brow in return. "Come now, Hadrian. Don't pretend as if you would go to any shorter lengths to determine the trustworthiness of someone, to find out their worth, potential and character. I would wager that it took Raven Nadine years, which were no doubt riddled with all sorts of different tests, before you trusted your adopted Mother, correct?"

"Ah," Hadrian smiled darkly. "But you have undermined your own argument, my Lord. Yes, I tested Raven, thoroughly, in a variety of ways before I granted her my trust. But Lord Voldemort does not confide in or rely on anyone, does he? Even if they are trustworthy."

Crimson eyes flashed with annoyance and anger, but Hadrian didn't back down, meeting the dark stare head on.

"You've had my attention for a while now, Hadrian. I was very deliberate in the directives of the bond. You're are a powerful wizard, the magical skill and talent required to maintain and construct those intricate glamours you wear now is rare. However, one can have intelligence and just as easily lack the required cunning and unclouded perception to look at the world the way in which it exists and not as you might wish it did. By managing to stay undetected, for the most part, despite the obstacles I placed in your way shows me that you know how to use your sharpness of mind to its fullest."

The Dark Lord leaned back, resting his hands against the table as he fixed Hadrian with an intense stare. "And most importantly, I wasn't testing your trustworthiness in terms of myself. Never once did I attach a gag to the connection I initiated between us. You could have gone to Dumbledore, the Light, at any time to get out of your mess. You know that they would be pleased to have your abilities at their beck and call. And I know that you're intelligent enough to recognise that Dumbledore's vast magical knowledge and power could certainly have proven a means to gain your freedom from me."

Hadrian felt himself shake his head in furious disbelief. "You wanted to know that I was loyal to the Dark, that I could be trusted to always keep the Dark's interests ahead of my own." He stated flatly.

Voldemort smirked slowly. "You voluntarily chose the possibility of having your will subjugated by me over the choice of working for Dumbledore's and the Light's ends."

Hadrian exhaled a hollow laugh. What twisted and yet, flawless logic. He hadn't even realised that he'd made that choice, but having it laid before him so neatly made him realise that he hadn't given it conscious thought because the possibility was never acceptable to him.

"You could have just asked." Hadrian knew as soon as the words escaped him that they were pointless. Verbal assurance wouldn't have been enough for the Dark Lord and also it certainly didn't matter now.

Voldemort waved his hand in a careless gesture, as if to sweep the useless comment aside. "You are powerful, skilled and intelligent." There was no praise or flattery in the man's tone, just fact. "And I wanted to know." The simple words were spoken with an arrogance that set Hadrian's teeth on edge. But he listened. He listened despite his growing resentment because this was the only way he would learn how the Dark Lord thought. "This way, I either had you bound to my will, unable to betray me. In Dumbledore's grip, but cut off from all those connections you've made in Europe while I planned your death." He grinned darkly and Hadrian could almost taste his pleasure in how this had turned out. "Or this option, you, exceeding my expectations, proving that you are indeed," Crimson brightened slightly, "_worthy_, and of your own free will, Dark."

Hadrian just stared. _'I wanted to know...'_, that was the crux of it wasn't it. Voldemort wanted to know and he didn't care the means or the pain he caused to get it.

"Nonetheless," Any humour fled from crimson orbs, anger flaring in their depths instead. "I can't say that I was impressed to discover you had altered the connection so that it is now a two-way channel."

Furious to have been put through hell in order to appease the man's rampant paranoia as he saw it, Hadrian wasn't quick enough to curtail his response. "Can't say that waking up in the middle of the night feeling like something was slicing my body apart, only to find _your_ cryptic, smug message slicing open my skin was a picnic either. I guess we both had to make sacrifices for the bond, didn't we?" He spat acidly.

Dark, curling tendrils immediately tightened around his throat, choking off his air supply.

Livid, in pain and fed up, Hadrian wanted so much to retaliate, hating that he had been subdued so easily. He wanted to fight back! He forced his mind to focus, to think!

A spell wouldn't help him here. This manifestation of pure magical power was rare. It required control, experience and a deep inner connection with your own magical core that made the ability impossible for all but a mere handful to ever even have _some_ success. Voldemort had_ mastered_ the ability.

Hadrian didn't care. He didn't care how hard it was, how exceptional, nothing. Managing to manifest your magic outside the body in its pure form was the only way to fight the choking hold on his neck that he was even remotely aware of. And Sweet Darkness, he'd do it.

With no thought of failure, the possibility totally unacceptable, he applied his formidable will into forcing his magic to mimic Voldemort's ability to manifest itself outside the physical body.

He had no idea if it would work but, at this point, he was determined to succeed. He was no victim. He had felt that helplessness once before in his life, that same powerlessness, the inability to even fight back with any effect. He wouldn't ever be a victim again.

Not even to a Dark Lord.

His lungs were burning, terribly tight. The pounding in the back of his skull that had increased in intensity the angrier he became as the man had explained his demented thought process, tripled in force, thumping with wrathful, sharp spikes of agony.

He didn't care. He wanted a shield. He wanted his magic to push against the confident, icy black cord wrapped around his throat. He wanted his magic to create a barrier. To force back the constricting, dark magic.

That's what he wantedand he wouldn't accept failure. The burning in his lungs was beginning to feel like lead, heavy, but he forced back the black spots dominating his vision, refusing to give in.

He would not be a victim. Hadrian would never be a victim again.

Without warning, he felt as if he was encased in a bubble. The dominating force holding him up by his neck disappeared and he fell to his knees, coughing, dragging in gasping, choking breaths.

The black slowly faded from his vision and his heart beat began to slow.

He could feel it, the comforting, tangible feel of his own swirling magic surrounding him. He'd been ruthless, demanding, forcing his own far more inexperienced magic to do as he willed it. But it soothed him now, whispering along trembling limbs, stilling their shakes as it slowly infused back beneath his skin. As if it knew that he couldn't afford physical weakness right now. Not in front of this wizard.

"Remarkable."

Hadrian's head snapped up at the intrigued tone and he saw Voldemort standing as casually as he had been before, his posture leaning just as lazily as it had been against the desk behind him.

"You shouldn't have been able to do what you just did with your magic until you were seventeen."

"I've always had a steep learning curve." He rasped out, hand against his throat rubbing the abused skin there.

Lord Voldemort smirked at his action, but Hadrian didn't stop. If the man found humour in having inflicted pain on him and seeing the evidence of it...it would fit with what he knew of the Dark wizard.

He realised with annoyance that both their tempers had cooled. Apparently, having the opportunity to inflict physical punishment on him was satisfying enough for Voldemort while Hadrian was appeased with his having held his own.

Although it didn't look like the man was in the least bit tired. In fact, the way his magic seemed to dance around his figure in excitement lent a certain overwhelming vitality that was exasperatingly attractive on the man.

As soon as the thought registered in Hadrian's mind his frustration increased exponentially. That he was even _thinking_ about that sort of thing right now...! Furious at having effectively been betrayed by his own mind and baser desires, Hadrian forced his focus to return to cool, intellectual thoughts.

If what the Dark Lord said was true, come his birthday, they would be on more equal footing.

"I could just dissolve the bond." Voldemort hissed softly, staring at him with a dark warning in his eyes.

Hadrian scoffed, wincing slightly at the pain that caused his damaged throat. "It was forged with blood, my Lord. Please don't insult my intelligence by trying to get that one past me. If there had been a way to dissolve the bond, I would have found and _already_ done it." He stated confidently.

Voldemort's eyes brightened in amusement, his expression telling Hadrian that he was satisfied with his answer. "I trust that you will keep the information granted to you through the bond secret, Mr Walker?" It wasn't a question.

"With the same dedication with which you will no doubt, extend to me the same courtesy, my Lord." Hadrian felt safe enough in this situation to issue his own counter warning.

There was no way that the man went through the hassle of determining his character and capabilities just to kill him. If Hadrian's presumptuous actions concerning the manipulation of the property connection had been unforgivable the Dark Lord would have killed him much earlier in this enlightening discussion.

There was a pregnant pause which Hadrian used to reassert complete control over his flippant mouth and force the now excruciating pain in his head to the back of his mind.

This conversation wasn't over.

Green and Crimson duelled.

"How did you avoid completing the bond?" There was a dark threat in those words. No humour or amusement only serious suspicion lit those orbs.

Hadrian's previous hot rage was nowhere to be seen. "It doesn't matter. I did it, that's all that counts." He said coolly, calmly.

The Dark Lord straightened from his lazy position, coming to a complete stand as his eyes narrowed dangerously. "How?" He demanded in a soft murmur.

Hadrian's own eyes sharpened with a different kind of anger than that which had consumed him before. This was cold, calculated. This rage didn't blind you to reason, but submerged you in the depths of icy intelligence; unforgiving and cruel.

"...Why did you blind Raven?"

His question was clearly unexpected, and the Dark Lord crossed his arms, amused. "Two reasons. I wanted to know if your Mother was your strength, if you lent on her. You did very well on that count. You don't need Raven Nadine anymore than I need gold. It's easier when you have it, but if you don't, it doesn't stall you for long. You'll still do what you had planned to do."

"And the second reason?"

"A little score that had to be settled between just her and I." He smirked.

Hadrian clenched his teeth together in disgust. "She is my Mother." He ground out.

Voldemort laughed quietly. "...Why should I care about that?"

Hadrian forced his fists to loosen, knowing that his ire was only entertaining the man at this point. This was the Dark Lord, he would do as he pleased for the simple reason that he could. It was the way of the world.

Hadrian lifted his chin stubbornly. "Is that all, my Lord?" It was bold, but at this point Hadrian just wanted to leave. He was satisfied with the way he had altered the bond and he didn't want to give Voldemort the opportunity to start questioning him again on how he had held off completing the link for so long.

Hadrian might have been falling into the shadows of unconsciousness at the time, but his memory of the Dark Lord's serious caution to him that night was vividly clear.

_Cool breath floated across his face._

"_Don't think I've forgotten about how you might have stopped the pain, Hadrian." Long fingers were carding through his lush, black hair and he felt tingling warmth spread across the deep gash on his left wrist and a lessening of pain. He wasn't conscious enough to recognise the healing spell for what it was, let alone the individual who cast it. _

"_I shall be very displeased if I learn that you have harmed yourself in any way, Hadrian."_

Hadrian knew he was missing a crucial piece of the memory. There was something he was forgetting, something important, but no matter how hard he tried to recall, it always eluded him.

"...Not quite." The Dark Lord murmured silkily, his magic curling around him, pulsing in a growing excitement.

Hadrian's eyes narrowed.

Crimson orbs were boring into him, glazed with pleasure and approval. "You have not only met all of my expectations, Mr Walker, but exceeded them. I am very pleased." He purred darkly.

Hadrian bit the inside of his cheek, resenting the patronising tone of that comment, as if he were a child getting a pat on the head.

The Dark Lord seemed to be swimming in the pleasure of his own achievement at having found such a prize, red orbs eager and jumping with contained energy. Despite the unforseen two-way connection, the dark wizard was in a fine mood.

Voldemort raised a hand to his clean shaven face, running a long finger along his jaw line as he considered Hadrian with a possessive look. With one lone finger he pointed at Hadrian's figure, "Remove your glamour's." He commanded softly.

Hadrian crossed his arms. There was lust in Voldemort's eyes. Lust, possessiveness and mounting anticipation. It was like the man was glorying in the haze of some sort of fantasy, watching events unfold one by one, just as he wished they would. Like hell he'd cater to the man.

"No." Hadrian's sharp denial shattered the fantasy as effectively as the breaking of a crystal vase, there would be no returning to pretend things had happened differently.

The mist clouding the Dark Lord's eyes dispersed instantly, displeasure taking its place. Reality not adhering to what the dark wizard had wanted or expected. Crimson narrowed to slits. "Remove your glamour's, or I shall force you." It was a dark promise

Hadrian would not bow here; he refused to play the preapproved part so obviously set out for him by the man's fickle whims and wishes.

"No." Hadrian stated strongly.

"Do you know how painful it is to have another wizard tear through your magic, ripping it to shreds?" The sibilant croon threatened that the Dark Lord would make the experience as painful as it had the capacity to be if he continued to refuse.

"I'll fight you...every step of the way." Hadrian promised with a serious, heated gaze.

"Prideful." Voldemort tsked.

Hadrian tensed, sensing the creeping tendrils of the powerful wizard's magic beginning to wrap around him. He gathered his own formidable will in preparation of a defence, determined not to yield here.

The small, constricting pressure of the dark cords suddenly froze and in the next second Hadrian sensed it too. Four magical signatures had just appeared outside the hall's door.

A knock echoed in the chamber, breaking the staring match between emerald and crimson.

Voldemort's magic retreated slowly, reluctantly.

Hadrian felt the irritated, whip-like action of the Dark Lord's magic fling out and unlock the room's entrance, throwing the door open loudly.

A small band of Death Eaters entered hesitantly, no doubt sensing the annoyance of their master.

Hadrian's persona re-created itself effortlessly. The cloak settling back onto its master's shoulders before even a hint of the true nature of the individual it hid was exposed.

The defiant, stubborn, young man that had been standing in his place not a minute ago was gone. All that remained was a cowed, pathetic excuse of a wizard who had suffered chastisement and reprimand; incapable of bearing his punishment with any degree of grace or fortitude.

Hadrian hid his shaking hands, clenching them tightly together behind his back. The four Death Eaters were obviously here to report and he had no intention of staying any longer than he absolutely had to.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Hadrian stepped back.

Blood red eyes focused on him immediately.

Sweeping into a bow so low it looked like grovelling to the Death Eaters surrounding him, Hadrian used the opportunity of their soft, derisive chortles to peer through his sweat dampened hair.

The Dark Lord's face was like stone. None of the humour that his followers expressed could be found in his expression. Instead, crimson flashed in irritation, seeing Hadrian's low, clumsy bow for exactly what it was; a blatant mockery.

"Farewell, my Lord." Hadrian made sure his voice was saturated with pathetic adoration and simpering worship, enjoying the way the man's mouth tightened into a thin line of displeasure, easily understanding Hadrian's sarcastic snipe.

He wasn't in the mood to play at respectful servant.

Before Voldemort had time to decide whether he would retaliate against the barefaced and deliberate disrespect, his attention became preoccupied by the eager to please followers before him. "My Lord, we came directly..."

Hadrian wasted no time. Taking advantage of the opportunity he slipped quietly from the room.

Glowering at the stone floor in front of him as he moved down the hall, Hadrian wasn't surprised when a single, dark tendril suddenly wrapped around his already damaged throat, brushing against the thin skin there in warning.

With a small burst of effort he flung the man's manifested magic away from him.

He would need to practice, get better, but Hadrian was very pleased with the discovery of his new skill.

He never noticed, focused as he was on the small battle of wills, the lone Death Eater who had lagged behind the rest of his group and was only now entering the hall just as Hadrian stalked out.

The young, masked man jerked to a halt, staring at Hadrian's face in amazement as he walked past.

Appreciation and admiration shone from cloudy blue as he stared at the remarkable eyes in an otherwise unremarkable face. They were a bright emerald colour, different tones of green swirling around the black pupils like moving flames.

The lowly death eater turned his head to stare at the retreating back of the frail looking boy in consternation. It looked so strange to see eyes so unique, so captivating on such an ordinary looking person.

Shaking his head slowly, the Death Eater forced his body back around so that he was again facing the large door his comrades had already entered.

They were such beautiful eyes.

...

_So, what did you think? ;D_


	24. Pulled Through the Briars Backwards!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_..._

The unique sound of clothes rubbing against leather broke the silence of the library, distracting him. Peering over the top of his book Hadrian watched as Draco Malfoy twisted in the brown chair, his mouth tightening in annoyance as he tried to find a more comfortable position.

The pureblood heir had found him in the main library an hour ago. Hadrian had pretended not to notice his housemate's entrance at first, hoping that he'd lose interest and leave, but that wasn't to be.

The blonde had stood in the doorway for a while, unsure of himself, before approaching Hadrian's table with a confident step. Even if he hadn't been aware of the boy's indecision a moment ago Hadrian still would have been able to see that his self-assured demeanour was faked.

Clearing his throat, Draco had asked in deliberately formal words if he might join him. Hadrian had to admit, he was curious to see the possible changes the life-debt had had on Malfoy's behaviour. When he had finally glanced up, hiding his irritation, it was to see genuine respect swimming in those grey eyes.

Finding himself actually somewhat intrigued by the about-face of his housemate, Hadrian silently gestured to the chair opposite him, wondering how long this newfound attitude would last before the novelty wore off.

That slight interest had rapidly disappeared. He honestly didn't think that the Malfoy heir had read a single word in that book he held so close to his face, distracted as he was with flinging what he could only guess were supposed to be inconspicuous looks in his direction.

Suppressing his glare Hadrian focused on the text in front of him.

He'd spelled the cover to appear like a supplementary source for Charms when in actual fact he was looking up any information he could find on the ability to manifest magic outside the physical body. There was more information than he had guessed but, it was rife with contradictions. He could only guess that while enough people had managed some degree of success in the ability, making sure that it had been documented, not many had ever mastered the ability.

With a soft sigh, Hadrian closed the book, ignoring the sharp pain that sliced through his chest, and placed it back onto the table.

"Problem?"

Hadrian glanced up at the pale, curious face staring at him. He just shook his head spinning the tome beneath his index finger.

"I can help, if you want." Malfoy offered, gesturing towards the discarded Charms title.

Hadrian tapped his finger against the cover in thought. "Is your Mother at home?" He asked knowing perfectly well that she was.

Following Hadrian's figure as he rose from the table, Draco frowned. "Yes, why?"

"There was just something I wanted to ask her." He shrugged.

Gathering three of the books on the table he held them against his chest, knowing that this particular posture alluded to a certain sense of vulnerability that the wizard opposite him had never been able to stand.

Surprisingly, the blonde set down the book he had been pretending to read with a concerned little frown wrinkling his forehead. "Is everything alright?" He asked.

The puppy-dog phase was going to get old really fast, Hadrian realised. In the past, his housemate would never have dreamed to ask such a question with only genuine concern motivating him.

Hadrian smiled tightly and curled his shaking fingers tighter around the book spines, the applied force helping to disguise his body's less than stellar health. "Yep!" He chirped in a purposely happy tone, already moving towards the door. "I'm fine, you stay here, enjoy the peace and quiet." And he was out the door.

Exhaling loudly in exasperation, Hadrian crossed the wide open space with a slower stride than he was used to. He was just so tired. His entire body was weak, fatigued. He'd actually had to use gravity to help get him to his feet when he'd rolled off his bed this morning. He'd never felt so...drained.

The constant, unpleasant rolling in his stomach suddenly lurched, making him clench his jaw tightly. This nausea, which was _meant_ to be lessening, had only increased since yesterday.

In all honestly, he was beginning to feel concerned.

His symptoms should have reached their peak intensity already. The physical indicators of withdrawal would gradually peter out over the next two weeks, but by now, his body's illness ought to have begun improving. Instead, the shaking, cramps and headaches had only gotten progressively worse.

If his condition wasn't any better by tomorrow morning he'd do some research, but for now it was too soon to tell if anything was actually wrong. After all, the estimates were only guesses based on the average witch or wizard's reaction to toxic amounts of the potion.

With a grimace, he forced his throat to swallow the acidic bile threatening to come up. It would make a lovely image against the pristine, grey veined, white marble foyer that was for sure.

Hadrian located Narcissa easily. She was in the conservatory, cream coloured gardening gloves holding a small pair of hedge clippers as she trimmed the unique purple roses littered throughout the sun room.

"I would have thought you would use magic?" Hadrian announced his presence and had a timid smile waiting for her when she turned to face him.

She smiled at him, no warmth in her eyes, but there wasn't coldness either. "Some things even I enjoy doing without the help of magic." She explained, pulling off the protective, leather gloves. "Did you need something, Hadrian?"

He nodded silently. Reaching into his robe pocket Hadrian pulled out a familiar, yellow-worn scroll of parchment and held it out for her to take.

Narcissa raised a curious eyebrow, glancing down at the scroll again before finally taking it.

"What's this?" She asked, making no move to unroll the parchment.

"A favour." Hadrian leaned back on his left foot in a sign of nervousness, in actual fact it was because his right calf had just gone into cramp. "Or rather, a friend of mine asked me for help and I'm hoping you might be able to see a solution."

He could see it in her eyes; she was sure that he was coming to her with a trivial school boy problem, perhaps help in transfiguration or some money to buy a new broom, the relative expense of such a thing would be nothing to the Malfoys.

French manicured nails unrolled the scroll slowly. Sky blue eyes widened in shock, flittering over the long, detailed words before leaping back onto him.

"A marriage contract?" She breathed out softly, astonishment written all over her face. "Your friend...?" She trailed off.

Hadrian inclined his head towards the unrolled scroll, "The subject of the contract." He explained.

"Astrid Beaumont." She sought to clarify, scanning the words with an experienced eye.

The idea of using the Malfoys to solve Astrid's problem had occurred to him the moment he witnessed Narcissa's altered attitude. She was a Black and Black's were of old stock. By saving her only son and creating a life-debt between them, Hadrian had gained more than even he had hoped for. Lady Malfoy would help him in this, he was certain, her pureblood honour wouldn't allow for any less.

Not even a twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed the smirk that wanted to spread across his lips as Lady Malfoy became aware of yet another one of his influential contacts. She, on the other hand, wasn't quite quick enough to hide her flabbergasted expression.

"Yes. Her Father signed the contract and Astrid owled me hoping that I might have some sort of luck finding a loophole." He raised a hand to the back of his head, rubbing the hair there in feigned embarrassment. "I think that the panic must have muddled her brain, or else she wrote the address on the letter wrong, because I would have no clue where to even begin." He laughed with an uncomfortable cough, certain that this, at least, would go exactly as he had planned.

Hadrian knew that in the six months he had to work with, he would be able to find a solution to the problem, but it would take time, time, and hours of research which he could put, to much better use.

Moreover, the Malfoy's would be very familiar with this sort of situation. Narcissa was not only looking for a suitable bride for her son, but she would have been thoroughly educated by her Black family to spot unsavoury conditions and vital, obscure escapes.

No, the Malfoy's had the time, money, resources and now inclination to handle this issue for him.

Narcissa looked up from the contract, "I don't see Miss Beaumont as the type to lose her reason to panic, Hadrian." She challenged.

Hadrian shrugged with a smile, "Can't say that I do either, Lady. Frankly, I think that she was more interested in seeking help from Raven through me, more than anything else."

"Yes, that would make sense I suppose." She murmured to herself, fingering the parchment thoughtfully. "So, you wish me to find a way for your friend to escape her fate, no?" She asked briskly, a gleam in her eyes.

Hadrian smirked inwardly at the cunning move. She was trying to create a verbal agreement between only the two of them, purposefully excluding the Malfoys, which would mean, should she do as he asked, he would be in her debt.

With a tentatively hopeful smile and shy voice Hadrian tore Narcissa's crafty design to shreds.

"Well...you and Mr Malfoy are my legal guardians now, aren't you? I'm supposed to come to you if I have any problems?" By responding with questions he'd agreed to nothing, and instead had only highlighted the Malfoy family's responsibility for him.

She seemed to accept the 'accidental' defeat easily though. "I'll have a look through it Hadrian, but I can't promise anything. Betrothal contracts are notoriously iron clad."

Hadrian shook his head sadly, "I'm sorry Lady, I had assumed that the Malfoy family would have the resources to handle this sort of thing. If it was me, then I might be able to accept that you would try, but Astrid is a good friend and she only has a small window of time to escape the contract." He held out his hand in askance, calling her bluff.

Narcissa frowned at the expectant limb, glancing down at the contract again, before finally rolling it up and placing it on a small glass table behind her. "Miss Beaumont has nothing to worry about; I will find a way to do as you have asked of us."

Hadrian grinned at her and nodded. The flash of frustration that sparkled from her eyes when he didn't give verbal thanks, again thwarting any kind of debt on his part, had him chuckling inwardly.

"Merry Christmas, Lady." Hadrian called over his shoulder, winking as he gave her an obnoxious salute.

...

Remus eased the white kitchen door open and stepped through the silencing ward. Conversation was plentiful as Order members stood or sat in groups around the magically enlarged room, waiting for Albus to arrive.

"Moony!"

Turning, he smiled at the enthusiastic gesturing of Sirius as he motioned to the spare seat beside him.

"Good-evening Lily, James." He nodded at the smiling couple, pretending not to notice Padfoot's mock pout as he sat down.

"Remus!" Sirius whined theatrically.

James, Lily and he all grinned at the predicably childish behaviour before Remus caved at the sight of _literal _puppy dog eyes, and greeted his left-out friend as well.

"Urgh, can you believe that we have a meeting on Christmas day! Must be some sort of blasphemy that!" James complained while his wife smiled at him indulgently.

Looking closely at Lily for the first time in a while, Remus frowned in concern. Her vibrant, dark red hair was much frizzier than its usual sleek waves and the dark bruises under her eyes were prominent against pale, almost translucent skin. "Lily? Are you doing okay?" He asked softly.

Troubled, emerald eyes blinked at him in confusion.

"You look tired." Remus explained.

James took hold of his wife's limp hand firmly, "It's been tough, Moony." Remus watched the way his friend squeezed Lily's hand in comfort. "The Ministry is hell on earth these days, and those damn reporters at the Daily Prophet just won't let up on Landon."

"Not to mention the lack of anything from the enemy's quarter is putting everyone on edge. It's like waiting for the axe to drop." Sirius contributed to the long list with a serious expression.

Remus nodded, knowing and appreciating all of this but, he couldn't help feeling that it was something else, something more, that was distressing Lily.

She graced him with a strained smile, "It's as James and Sirius said, I think that it's all just getting to me." She turned towards the front gaining his attention.

Seeing Dumbledore stepping out of the fireplace, Minerva at his heels, Remus swivelled around, deciding to accept her words. Lily Potter was a dedicated Mother, seeing her only son slandered in the press, a prophecy hanging over his head? It couldn't be easy.

"Merry Christmas, everyone! Thank-you all for coming today. I promise to have you all out of here as soon as possible and back with your families." Dumbledore smiled, his weathered face warm. "Severus was summoned a few days ago and hasn't yet made it back to Hogwarts." He raised a hand for silence when several worried mutterings sprang forth. "However, a few hours ago he managed to get a message to me and asked that I call an Order meeting tonight. I can only imagine that he hasn't been able to get away without arousing suspicion yet. Even so, he assured me that he would come directly to Grimmauld Place."

Remus shared a long look with James and Sirius, all three thinking the same thing: News!

"A-Albus? Has there been any word from Bill and the others?" Molly Weasley asked anxiously.

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes dimmed slightly, "No, Molly, I'm sorry, not yet." He said kindly. Before Molly could react though, the Headmaster was quick to reassure her. "But I do not believe there to be any real cause for concern yet. Their mission was one of information gathering and because of that any number of factors could have delayed their return."

Mrs Weasley didn't seem comforted by this in the least. "Like what?" She demanded with a wobbly voice.

Minerva was quick to intervene "Molly, Albus is correct. The goal was to remain unseen and go unnoticed, the estimate was to have them return sometime yesterday, but that was only a rough guess."

"Come on, Mum. You always say not to start worrying until there is something to be worried about." Charlie implored.

"But what could be keeping them? This was supposed to be relatively simple." She was looking for answers or some explanation, so Remus stepped in.

"Bill might have had a tougher time with the wards than he anticipated, perhaps it took longer than expected to get in." He offered with a gentle nod of assurance.

Sirius quickly picked up on the calming effect the explanation had had on the worried Mother and added his two cents worth. "It might be that Tonks got in fine, snuck around, got some information, but decided that she'd rather spend the night in the Manor than chance getting caught by making her retreat from the property too soon."

Kingsley nodded. "And we already know that they were going to make their way to and from Malfoy Manor on foot rather than leaving behind a magical signature that could be traced. They might have found wards in the forests that we weren't aware of and so have been forced to go slow so that they don't trip them."

Molly was nodding slowly.

"See, Molly. There are any number of reasonable explanations as to why they're late that have nothing to do with being in trouble." Arthur hugged his wife tightly, his own eyes worried. "Though, it is a pity that the spells which mask magical signatures affect the family clock at the Burrow."

Charlie gave a laugh, "I can't tell you how creepy it was standing opposite Bill as he performed the charm and watching his hand go from 'home' to 'dead'."

Everyone gave a chuckle at that, while Dumbledore gestured for Kingsley to give a report.

"Do you think that everything is alright with Bill, Tonks and the petty criminal?" Sirius whispered to him, laughing at his own joke.

Remus bit his lip. "I think so. As we said, it was a mission to remain unseen and we know that Tonks would be able to get through the wards. Even if they were discovered, Tonks is an auror and is capable of getting herself out of danger and back to the safety of her team alive."

When Sirius didn't reply immediately, instead worrying his own lip Remus shot him a questioning look.

Padfoot sighed. "...I'm not saying my little cousin isn't talented, but Lucius Malfoy wouldn't play fair and, well, Narcissa's certainly no pushover." He said with a grimace of distaste.

"Mate, even if she were caught, what's the chance that both of them were in the Manor in the middle of the day so close to Christmas?" James, having been following their conversation, brought up a valid point. "And even if they were, all family manors are enormous. The chance that they were both in the same place, at the exact moment Tonks was discovered?" He left the question hanging and Remus found himself nodding in agreement.

The door swung open loudly and seven people trudged in with a gloomy air. Remus couldn't help the way his brow's rose as he took in the state of their robes.

"What happened to you?!" Wendel Thornton, a man high up in the Ministry hierarchy, exclaimed loudly. "You look like you've been pulled through the briars backwards!"

"Thanks." Cecilia Moore deadpanned. "If you can believe it or not, we happened to chance upon two Death Eaters on our way over here."

Before the questions could begin firing, Dumbledore leaned forward in alarm. "Were they scouting Grimmauld Place?"

Remus heard Sirius suck in air beside him and his own heart skipped a beat at the terrifying thought of the Death Eater's knowing where the Order's headquarters was, or worse, another traitor in their midst.

"No, we took a detour on our way here and ran into Rabastan Le'strange and Derek Gable. As Cecilia already said, if you can believe it, they were moseying down the street, happy as can be. No Death Eater regalia, faces uncovered. Two wanted criminals the both of them and they have the nerve to just wander the streets without a care." Victor Dodge, a seasoned auror, was clearly still angry at their obvious gall.

"Rabastan Le'strange?" Lily gasped in horror. Her face drained of all blood and she looked like she was going to be sick.

Remus shot her a sympathetic look, she and Alice Longbottom had been fast and firm friends. The couple's demise had plunged Lily into deep depression, James had been so caught in his own grief at the time that the Potter's had hardly even spoken to each other. He and Sirius had been incredibly concerned during those months; the space between the couple had seemed insurmountable sometimes.

The degree to which the Potter's marriage suffered during that time had shocked him, Remus would readily admit to that. Landon had no idea how close his parents had come to permanently separating then. To him, they were the ideal couple. The night they had all turned up for dinner at the Potter home to see James stealing kisses from a Lily covered in white flour, a weight had lifted from his chest. Like a switch had simply been flipped, James and Lily somehow reconnected.

He often wondered if it was their fear of losing the other like Frank and Alice had, that caused them to draw away from each other to such an alarming degree. Whatever it was though, they worked through it and came out stronger in the end. They were the happiest married pair he'd ever seen, except for maybe the Lovegood's before the accident.

"...Dillon sets up wards for clients all the time; we held back until he managed to throw up anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards and then engaged them." Remus emerged from his thoughts, making a mental note to ask James and Sirius what he had missed.

"If it was seven against two, why do I get the feeling that they got away?" Moody snarled.

Cecilia scowled at the veteran auror, "Le'strange is a renowned dueller, Mad-Eye!"

"Even he would have significant trouble with four aurors, one curse breaker and two Hogwarts graduates, Moore. Especially as you say that you got the drop on him."

"There was Gable there as well!" She glared hotly, her pride hurt.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Moody sneered, his gravelly voice sarcastic. "Two against seven is tough odds. Especially as one of the seven!" He yelled.

"Alastor!" Dumbledore spoke sharply, halting the argument.

"Gable got hit with an incendio." One of the quiet one's in the group spoke up. "My incendio." The young man shuddered. "He was on fire! Screaming! I-I didn't," the man shook himself as everyone listened with wide eyes. "I've been an auror for two years and I froze. We all did. Le'strange didn't stop moving for a moment! He shot two spells knocking two of us out, drenched Gable with water and ran with him. He broke into a house and flooed away before we could catch up to him."

The man was clearly in shock. Albus apparently thought the same as he firecalled Poppy directly and asked her to come through to examine the seven members. The school nurse wasted no time in shoving the seven out into the hall, exclaiming that her patients needed no further excitement.

"If we've any luck at all, Gable won't last through the night." Moody spat, more than half the room nodding in agreement.

Dumbledore clapped his hands once to get everyone's attention. "I'm loathed to detain you on Christmas day any longer. So, unless anyone has anything else to add, you should go be with your families. I will let you know what Severus had to say at the next gathering."

Not wanting to prolong the meeting, but knowing that he was about to anyway, Remus lifted his hand, waving it in the air to attract attention. He wasn't sure that this was Order business exactly, but he didn't know what to make of the disturbing things he'd overheard in Diagon Alley.

"Remus?"

Ignoring his friend's curious stares, he nodded at the Headmaster in thanks. "A couple of days ago, five seventh year slytherins came into my store; Christmas shopping if the bags were anything to go by."

"Who were the students, Lupin? Did you recognise them?" Kingsley frowned, his suspicions on high alert.

He nodded. "It was the usual group; Malfoy, Zabini, Parkinson, Nott and Greengrass."

"Landon mentioned them visiting." Lily said softly.

James snorted, "I think that what he said was, and 'can't those Snakes find anywhere else to go? Do they always have to ruin everything?!'"

Sirius chuckled heartily. "Too true!"

Remus cut in before the pair could begin listing the evils of slytherin house. "Yes, there were the normal insults that you would expect exchanged," he brushed off quickly, "But, that isn't why I'm raising the issue." He took a deep breath. "Albus," He said seriously, all in the room taking note of his tone, "what do you know of a student named, Hadrian Walker?"

Grey eyebrows rose in surprise. "Hardly anything, actually. That name only just recently came to my attention when the Malfoy's filed for guardianship of the boy. As I told the Order when I found out, Mr Walker was apparently raised by Raven Nadine."

Remus nodded in acknowledgment. He remembered that discovery; Sirius had hit the roof when he found out that his hated aunt was still alive and had raised a son. In fact, Sirius had been the one who had thrown question after question about the boy at Snape, Minerva and Albus. He had wanted to know his grades, talent, friends, everything. It quickly became apparent to everyone else that Minerva struggled to remember anything more than he was consistently below average in his classes, and Snape despised the child for being so unsuited and 'the disgrace of his house'.

Padfoot hadn't wanted to let it go, certain that they weren't saying something or had overlooked something, but the evidence to the contrary was clear. Hadrian Walker was, incredibly, a Muggle-born outcast that was far from abysmal in magic, but he was also nothing special either.

Sirius had finally admitted defeat and said that maybe the old witch had just cracked and wanted the company. When Albus had said that he believed Walker to be an orphan, Lily had pointed out that Madame Nadine, if she had just wanted the company and new experience of raising a child, couldn't have picked a better candidate for a son that no one would miss.

That had become the accepted view and everyone had promptly forgotten about the new Malfoy ward.

"Well, I think he might have learned a thing or two from his adopted Mother." Remus ran a hand through his hair. "I overheard his housemate's talking about him. Apparently, Draco resents Walker's current position in his family. He was complaining about the boy rather headedly. His friends, particularly Greengrass, basically told him to stop being blinded by his anger. She went on to say that she thought they had decided to figure out the 'enigma' that was Hadrian Walker this term."

"Enigma?" Dumbledore interrupted with a crease between his brows.

"That was the exact word they used. Enigma. You should have heard them; it was like something out of a badly scripted crime novel. I was amused, actually. Their behaviour was so stereotypically slytherin that I couldn't help but see the humour, so I kept listening."Remus shook his head in disbelief. "She said something that, that..."

"What, Lupin?! Spit it out!"

"She said that...Hadrian Walker _killed _a man in front of them."

...

"What?!" Molly screeched.

Albus ignored her, staring at Remus with grave eyes. "Are you sure that those were Miss Greengrass's exact words, Remus? Children are known to exaggerate..."

"How can you exaggerate something like that?" Finias Boyle exclaimed.

"They were her _exact _words Albus." Remus confirmed. "And her next words were just as worrying. She went on to remind Malfoy that Walker is friends with powerful people..."

"Raven Nadine, you mean?" Hailey Jones asked.

"No. At least, not only her. Greengrass said witches and wizards, I don't know who, she didn't name any names, but I have no idea who she might have been referring to."

"I shouldn't be too worried about that, Lupin. To school kids a powerful ally is the favour of Argus Filch. What really concerns me is that murder accusation." Moody's comment had Dumbledore nodding in agreement.

"I know it's vague," Remus was quick to add, "But, Albus, Minerva, do you have any idea what they would mean by nobody knowing anything of detail about his past?"

"He was an orphan and his adoption was illegal, I'd want to keep from gaining the authorities attention as well." Lily reasoned.

"What are you thinking, Albus?" Arthur Weasley asked the quiet man.

"That the boy, I met in my office not too long ago, does not strike me as a murderer." Remus opened his mouth to assure the Professor that he was certain the slytherins had been serious in their charge, but was stopped by Dumbledore's next words. "You misunderstand me. I am not saying that what you heard was wrong, but something of this kind is very easy to misunderstand through lack of contextual knowledge. I would think it foolish to accuse someone of being a killer based solely on that one comment."

"So, you don't think there was anything to it?" Lily pressed; her eyes sharp.

Albus smiled comfortingly, "No. But, if it would make you feel any better I shall keep an eye on him once term re-commences."

Remus opened his mouth to protest when Severus Snape came stalking through the kitchen door, distracting him.

The look on that familiar, sallow face had the cold hand of dread grip his heart, the absolute silence in the room telling him that he wasn't the only one frozen in his chair.

"Severus?" Dumbledore called; a worried frown on his forehead when his Potions Master didn't immediately move to speak.

Snape seemed, for once, at a loss for words, "I'm very sorry..."

"No!"

...

The pile of presents was ridiculous. Truly. The mound couldn't be classified as anything but a small hill.

Shaking his head at the blatant affluence, Hadrian rubbed his eyes in a futile attempt to alleviate the migraine attempting to leak out his ears.

Apparently, it was tradition in the Malfoy household to open gifts after the afternoon feast, complete with turkey, ham, soup appetisers, trifle and then pudding. None of them had even eaten much from the obscene portion sizes. Still, lunch had lasted hours and with the cornucopia of different scents from the rich food, it had been all he could do to control his rolling stomach.

This wasn't normal.

_Something_ had gone wrong.

He shouldn't be in this much pain!

Withdrawal was hard on the body, yes, but Hadrian had an impressive pain threshold and knew that, while difficult, he could get through the physical ramifications of his addiction and the resultant poisoning of his system with his guardians none the wiser.

Whatever the now constant cramping, piercing migraine and tunnel vision, was, it was not normal!

"Here, this is for you." A silver wrapped present was waved under his nose impatiently; the quick movement of colour actually adding to his dizziness, if that was possible. "Take it." The order failed to mask the voice's excitement and Hadrian was forced to raise a clammy hand and grasp hold of it.

"Thank-you." He breathed, the tightness across his chest making the action of inhaling difficult.

"No need to sound so astonished that I got you a present, Hadrian." Draco drawled in a self-satisfied voice, smug from having surprised Walker with his generousity. Whether that generousity was forced on him by his Mother or not wasn't the issue.

Hadrian forced a laugh, knowing that in this case the weakness of the sound would only add to Draco's belief that he felt uncomfortable being given a gift. Thankfully, the Malfoy heir was called away by his Father before a conversation could develop.

At least the nausea which had plagued him since waking was gone now that he had finally thrown up everything he had in his system. The small family of three had given him peculiar looks when he excused himself from the dinner table for the third time in two hours, yes, but it was better than the looks he would have received had he not been able to get to the bathroom in time.

There was always a price to be paid though, and right now, weakness from the lack of food was only exacerbating his other symptoms. What had gone wrong?! He could think of nothing that would explain the way his body seemed to have started attacking itself!

And it was only getting worse.

While the Malfoy's gathered in a small circle around the Christmas tree, he had hoped that sitting in the back of the room might help him regain some much-needed energy. It was clear now, that no such reprieve was in his near future. He'd have to somehow excuse himself and make it back to his room before he actually collapsed!

No sooner had Hadrian opened his mouth, than the flames in the hearth flared green and two bodies tumbled out and onto the carpet.

Hadrian blinked deliberately. He couldn't be seeing correctly. Were their robes..._smoking_?

One of the figures made use of his gathered momentum and rolled into a standing position, flicking long, black hair out of his face as he swung round.

"Well! Don't just stand there! Help me!" The wizard, who Hadrian now recognised as Rabastan Le'strange, roared at the gaping family angrily.

Lucius sprang into action, turning over second unmoving figure so that they could all see his face.

It wasn't a pleasant sight.

Red, smoking burns covered almost every inch of skin on the wizard's face, neck and chest. Blood oozed from skin fissures as deep and definite as cracks in stone. Every nerve was exposed and raw to the elements and Hadrian wasn't surprised in the least that the man had succumbed to unconsciousness.

"What happened?" Narcissa breathed wide-eyed.

Rabastan was holding a red soaked, previously white shirt to his head as he answered. "Cornered by those blasted phoenix members." He growled. Narcissa tsked, conjuring fresh bandages and, ignoring his protests, wrapped them deftly around the younger Le'strange's head. "There must have been six of them because it was all we could do to hold them off. One of them threw an incendio straight at us and Gable wasn't able to shield or dodge in time. I think the fact that their spell actually hit one of us shocked them or something, because I managed to knock two of them out while they just stared at Gable with open mouths."

Hadrian tried to listen, very much intrigued, but when a soft ringing started in his ears and his vision blackened until he was only able to see spots of colour; he knew he needed to leave. The commotion would see to it that the Malfoy's didn't come looking for him when they finally noticed he was gone.

"I put him out with conjured water, but couldn't do much else. I just grabbed him and ran."

"Why didn't you apparate?" Lucius asked the man being tended to by his wife.

"Wards." He hissed. "You going to help him?" Rabastan demanded.

"I already have an elf getting the necessary potions from our store." Lucius stated.

Hadrian pushed up from the chair with both arms, waiting for the increased dizziness at the new position to settle before carefully walking towards the doors, managing to keep his legs steady. Without even a backward glance, Hadrian slipped out of the room, closing the door on the conversation behind him.

Ignoring the weakness of his body and the pain in his head, Hadrian forced his legs to move towards the grand staircase not knowing that his body was tilting to the side, making his progress veer on a left angle.

All his concentration was on those stairs, the image growing smaller as black dots grew in size.

His left side hit something solid, knocking the wind out of him, jarring his head.

...How? What? His hands felt the rock hard structure in confusion and it only took a moment for what it was to dawn on him, a wall.

Sagging against the wall, Hadrian breathed in deeply. He was so hot. The cool plaster felt wonderful against what he knew was fevered skin because the entrance hall of Malfoy Manor was always cold. Something about not wanting to seem overly friendly.

His breathing sounded loud in the silence.

He needed to get back to his room. Somehow.

With a gasp of pain, Hadrian pressed a fist to his chest, bending over, gasping in wheezing breaths.

What was happening to him?! What was wrong?!

Suddenly brilliant emerald eyes widened and Hadrian's mouth opened in a silent scream.

Blackness claimed him.

...

Rabastan watched Narcissa force potion after potion down Gable's throat knowing that it would be a miracle if the man survived the night. Even if he did, he'd bear terrible scars for the rest of his life. That incendio had caused him too much damage.

Sensing movement, he glanced up only to sneer in distaste. Lucius and Narcissa had completely ruined any potential that Draco Malfoy might have possessed with their coddling. The boy was practically green at the sight of the burns. Pathetic.

Standing, Rabastan leaned over to the stack of potion vials and picked up a pepper-up, downing the liquid quickly. Grimacing at the truly hideous taste, he decided that Snape must have brewed it.

"Narcissa," The blonde witch didn't look up from wrapping potion soaked bandages around the wounds, but cocked her head to show she was listening. "I'm going to use one of the hundreds of showers that you have in this monstrosity of a house before I leave to inform our Lord of Gable's state. Do try to keep him alive until I get back."

Lucius shot him a cold glare as he left, but he took no notice of it. The Malfoy Lord and he would never get on; their temperaments were too different to adequately understand the other.

The heels of his boots clicked against the marble, the silence of the entrance hall making the sound echo in the cavernous space.

He wasn't three feet from the base of the large staircase when he saw something from the corner of his eye that caught his attention. A small, elegant table stood against the left wall, the decorative lamp on its surface casting a small semicircle of light on the floor. What was that? Turning so that his side faced the stairs he narrowed his eyes. No longer moving, the silence seemed harsh, but there! There, he could hear something!

His curiousness aroused, Rabastan stepped forward to investigate. As he came closer to the solid back vein against the grey marble, he realised that there were two. And...was that a shoe?

As soon as the thought had registered, he recognised the black veins as two legs clothed in dress pants. The picture cleared. Someone had collapsed on the marble floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Only the figure's legs could be seen, the rest of him hidden by the stair's shadow.

Coming to a lazy stop beside the downed individual, Rabastan noted that the sound he had heard was the soft noise of struggling breaths. Recognising the Malfoy ward by some rough features in the shadowed space, his lip curled up in disgust.

Drunk.

With a silent wave, his wand tip lightened.

The boy was lying on his side, eyes closed, unconscious. Looking the perfect stereotype of drunken teenager passed out. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Rabastan turned to leave, not interested in the least. Let the mud-blood spend the night on the cold floor, he certainly couldn't care less.

As he turned his body towards the stairs, the glow from his wand illuminated the boy's entire arm for the first time and Rabastan stopped dead.

Dropping to his knees, Rabastan shoved the boy onto his back in order to get to the arm he'd been laying on. Grasping the appendage in a rough grip, he pointed his wand so that the light shone directly on the back of the Malfoy ward's hand.

...He couldn't believe it.

A coal black, curling tattoo ran between the boy's thumb and index finger. A symbol he knew very well.

Wide, brown eyes drifted down to a face he did not recognise, drinking in the unconscious features with shock.

"...Who _are_ you?"

...

Draco couldn't move, all he could do was stare at the horrifying burns that his parents had taken in stride. Was this his future? Would he too tumble out of the fire one day with his face an unrecognisable mess?

Did it make him a coward to be terrified of that thought?

"Draco, sweetheart, pass me the red potion vial." His mother's voice was soothing, but held an undercurrent of urgency that had his feet moving for the first time.

"He's uncouth." Lucius muttered to his Mother and Draco had the feeling he wasn't talking about the man whose throat he was currently pouring liquid down.

Narcissa ignored her husband.

Without warning, the flames flared and a graceful figure stepped out of the fire. Dark magic was roiling, filling the room immediately with a malevolence that both called to him and frightened him.

The Dark Lord.

His parents immediately fell into a deep bow, which he quickly imitated; hoping against hope that he'd escape notice.

"My Lord, Is there...?" His Father began, but the Dark Lord said nothing. Without even a glance at his gravely injured follower or the bowing Malfoy's he glided past them and out the door.

His parents exchanged apprehensive looks before quickly following the man from the room. It was a testament to how nervous they were that they forgot to tell their heir to remain and not follow.

Draco hurried after them. His parents were standing still in the middle of the entrance hall, both staring off to the left. Swiftly covering the distance between them, Draco drew up alongside his Father. Following their wide-eyed stare, Draco felt his own mercury orbs bug out in disbelief.

"Hadrian?" He whispered incredulously, taking a fast step forward. Before he could complete the intended stride, his Father's hand had pulled him back against his chest.

Obeying the silent order, Draco watched as Rabastan Le'strange stood from his position beside Hadrian as the Dark Lord approached. Le'strange's face was blank, betraying no thoughts or emotion.

Without a word, the Dark Lord crouched over Hadrian's unconscious body with a look he couldn't decipher.

As the seconds dragged on the silence became more and more obsessive. He wanted so much to ask what was wrong with Hadrian, but he wouldn't dare.

It was as if the whole world was holding its breath at that moment.

In the cavernous space, the Dark Lord's silken words travelled to all corners. "What have you _done_, boy?"

...

_Gosh, I've wanted to write this and the next couple of chapters for a long while now and the time is finally here! Ball's really starting to roll now! Yay! Did you like it? ;D_


	25. Perfect

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

...

_Literally, just finished! It's been a marathon! _

_Enjoy, and thank-you to all of you who reviewed ;D_

_..._

"So, I can count on your support if the need arises?"

"Of course." He assured.

Ian Kildare frowned slightly, clearly wishing to ask for something more concrete to hang that promise on. A slow smirk of amusement curled up the right side of his mouth when the vampire finally just bowed and left the room.

Leaning forward, he reached towards one of the many documents littering his desk when his long fingered hand froze in mid-air. It was tiny, and he couldn't be sure, but he thought he'd felt the gentlest of tugs on his magical core. The figure in the chair didn't move for several seconds, crimson eyes focused sharply on a random point on the carpeted stone floor.

Handsome features abruptly twisted into a mild scowl. Twice wasn't a coincidence.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, he focused closely on the barely discernible discrepancy and swiftly analysed the altered bond with confident experience.

He was almost disappointed in the boy; he hadn't thought that Hadrian Walker was stupid enough to think he could get away with pulling the same trick twice.

With his entire attention focused on the link, when that third, weaker pull on the bond came, he caught the strange behaviour of the boy's magic. Confused, he probed deeper, his formidable mind rapidly connecting clues.

Without warning, all expression fled the man's face as he stood and quickly crossed the study. No indications of what the darkly handsome individual was feeling could be discerned from his swift movements as he threw in floo powder and stepped into the fire without hesitation.

"Malfoy Manor." He announced coldly.

Nothing, except, when he turned around in the flames to face the room, crimson orbs flared brightly, not quite able to contain the maelstrom within.

The Dark Lord stepped out of the hearth and swept the cheerful looking room with one glance, dismissing its occupants.

Knowing the Malfoy's almost certainly had no idea where and what their charge was doing at that precise moment, he focused on his desire to know the boy's location and followed the connection's prompts out into the vast entrance foyer.

A black clad individual was currently crouched over what he knew, was Hadrian Walker's fallen figure.

His step quickened and he narrowed his eyes on the unknown wizard.

He saw the exact moment the man became aware of his approach, the material across his shoulder blades tightened as tilted his head to the side in order to watch his advance from the corner of his eye.

"...Rabastan." The name of his devote follower left his lips on a sharp, hissed warning.

The younger Le'strange tensed further, but didn't move.

The uncharacteristic defiance had narrowed eyes becoming slits.

Only seconds later, when he was mere feet away from them, Rabastan suddenly rose to his feet and stepped back.

Most people wouldn't have caught the subtle, discrete action of a wand disappearing up his sleeve, but he wasn't most people. Even so, he ignored the questionable action for the moment, much more focused on the shallow rise and fall of Hadrian's chest.

"I found him unconscious." Rabastan informed softly as the Dark Lord came to a stop beside the pair.

He swept his gaze over the haggard looking pureblood, noting the almost protective stance with intrigued eyes before giving a curt nod as he crouched down over the boy.

Placing a hand under Hadrian's nose, he frowned when only light puffs of air with long intervals between them met his skin. Shifting on the balls of his feet, he reached out with his thumb and lifted the right eyelid. His lips thinned with displeasure. The entire eye was covered in a transparent red membrane of blood. Checking the left, he found the same thing.

The boy was sweating and his pulse was racing.

_Finishing his meal with a disgusted grimace, he shoved the body away roughly. "They __**all**__ stink of Potions!"_

_Bellatrix laughed, "I'm not surprised with Snape standing right next to you, Kildare. The man refuses to bathe. Even we mere humans can smell the potion waft in his trail."_

_Snape glowered, but didn't say anything._

_"I wouldn't be surprised." Kildare murmured, wiping blood from his lips. "The stink is __**all**__over you, Snape."_

Crimson eyes narrowed dangerously, flicking over the unconscious body lying beside him suspiciously.

"...What have you done now boy?"

"He's magically exhausted."

His head snapped up at that. "Oh?" He asked Rabastan. He wanted to ask his follower how he had deduced such a thing, but he was already concentrating on the spell that would verify his words.

A deep purple, almost black colour pulsed above Hadrian's heart.

Ignoring the gasp of fright behind him, he scowled darkly. As soon as that light became pure black, the boy would be dead. The body cannot function without magic and whatever the boy had done to himself was killing him.

Hadrian needed more magic, more of _his own _magic. The body wouldn't accept another's. And he knew exactly where to find some that was readily available.

Not caring in the least that he was about to partially expose Hadrian's physical mask, Voldemort focused on the glamours not governed by the more complex rune tattoo and unmercifully ripped them apart.

...

Rabastan sensed the exact moment the Dark Lord's oppressive magic suddenly focused on the unconscious wizard at his feet and he was horrified to find himself choking back an instinctive protest.

He'd only had seconds to hide the mark beneath obscuring spells. His Lord's angry aura and crackling magic at his back combined with his own bone deep shock hadn't sped the process. He'd bungled the first attempt. Since joining the Death Eater's, he'd never failed to greet his master in the traditional manner; except tonight. He'd only just managed to spell the inky mark invisible moments before Lord Voldemort had made it to their side.

Nobody could see, nobody could know that the boy even had it, not before he figured this out.

Rabastan felt it, the precise instant when the magic collapsed beneath the powerful weight of his Lord's magic, and his eyes widened impossibly at the unexpected effect.

Brown, common hair suddenly bled into lush, raven locks of the deepest black. The grey, sallow skin that had revolted him since he first saw the boy seemed to brighten, taking on a white glow as all previous blemishes disappeared into nothingness.

He watched with disbelieving eyes as what he now realised was a glamour failing, exposed the real features the boy had been hiding. Hadrian Walker's small figure rapidly became one which sported an unquestionably attractive colouring.

He stared down at the young wizard that was fast becoming more and more of a mystery. It took real magical power to maintain glamours on a long term basis. It required control and strength of mind to keep those deceptive spells in place when experiencing emotional turmoil.

When he had glimpsed the mark, the face hadn't made sense to him; the features were unknown and foreign. This unveiling had both increased and eased his overwhelming confusion.

Because, he recognised that hair; those black, elegant waves were undeniably familiar to him.

...

Draco couldn't see anything! The combination of physical distance from the trio and abundant shadows were obscuring Hadrian completely.

His mind was screaming with questions. Why was the Dark Lord here? Was he here for Hadrian? Had he known he was in trouble? Was he here for something else and had just stumbled upon the Malfoy ward? What the hell was going on?!

Draco felt panic flare brightly when that ominous, dark purple glow pulsed above Hadrian. He knew exactly what that meant and it was terrifying.

Suddenly, the Dark Lord gave a violent wave of his wand and he cried out in distress. Was he going to kill him?

Before he even got the chance to start worrying over how magic would surely punish him for just watching as the wizard he owed a life-debt to, was murdered in front of him, he realised that nothing had happened. Draco frowned in confusion, but didn't have time to mull on the mystery for long.

The Dark Lord was casting another spell, and this time, a royal purple hovered above Hadrian instead of the menacing black.

It was only a little reassuring. It just meant that Hadrian wasn't going to stop breathing right this second; purple was still the colour of extreme magical exhaustion.

...

She had no idea what was going on. Her sister's brother-in-law comes rolling out of her fire with a severely injured comrade. Then the Dark Lord steps through those same flames and sweeps from the room before she could even get her bearings. Hadrian is unconscious and, again, the dark wizard is intensely interested in her charge.

"Lucius,"

Narcissa stiffened at the impatient call and glanced sharply towards her husband. She didn't want him to go over there. The Dark Lord was in a foul mood that was all too plain. What if he hurt Lucius? Lord Voldemort's unpredictable temper was notorious for a reason.

Narcissa could only watch in silence as the Malfoy Lord dropped the restraining hand on his son's shoulder and moved forward at a calm pace. To show defiance was inviting punishment, so she bit her lip to hide her distress, and watched.

"My Lord?" Lucius stopped two paces behind the crouched figure of his master, keeping his distance.

"Drop the anti-apparation wards around the property and go to the apparation point, Lucius. Wait until a man appears and bring him directly to the foyer you were using earlier, then you may put the wards back up." The Dark Lord ordered, his eyes never leaving the passed out figure beside him.

Lucius hesitated; bewildered eyes locked on his unconscious ward. Narcissa followed his line of sight, trying to see what her husband was looking at, but she couldn't find any reason for his confusion.

The Dark Lord didn't appreciate his loitering.

"Now, Lucius." The man growled with dark menace.

She threw a beseeching look at her husband, pleading with him to follow their Lord's orders; the consequences would be harsh if he did not. Lucius nodded at her while sending his own pointed look at Draco. She bowed her head in acknowledgment as he left the manor and placed her own hand on her son's shoulder, keeping him close.

Narcissa watched, with eyes determined not to miss anything revealing, as the Dark Lord levitated Hadrian into the air and stalked towards the small foyer they had been having their Christmas celebrations in.

"Stay back, Draco." She whispered harshly in her son's ear before rushing after the dangerous wizard.

Narcissa hurried towards the long chaise lounge in front of the fire, banishing copious sheets of wrapping paper so that Hadrian's body could be lowered onto its surface. The Dark Lord's wand lowered, directing the body it controlled onto the prepared settee.

She glimpsed Hadrian's face from the corner of her eye and did a double take.

"Wha..." Her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

What had? Why? _How _did Hadrian look like that?! It was the same person, the structure of his bones hadn't changed, and his body was still frail looking and weak. But the mild acne was gone, the stringy brown hair now silky, thick raven in colour. The patchy stubble around his chin had disappeared with only smooth, white skin remaining in its place.

"Narcissa, you keep your potion's stock full, no?" It wasn't so much a question as a threat.

She tried to drag her eyes away from the changed boy, something in the back of her mind screaming at her not to ignore that sharp voice.

"Narcissa..." The soft, drawn-out call of her name penetrated the shocked haze enveloping her mind with the ease of a red-hot blade. With some panic, she spun around only to lock gazes with unreadable ruby eyes. A cold shiver raced down her spine. "If you are done day-dreaming, summon one of your elves and have them fetch potions for calming nerves, hydration and blood replenishing." He demanded coldly.

"...Of course, my Lord." Her voice was smooth, absent the stutter that wished to be heard, her pure-blood training not allowing for such an obvious show weakness to be heard.

The Dark Lord seemed to dismiss her as his gaze focused back on the changed boy on her chaise. "And get rid of that." He waved an indifferent hand at Gable's injured form as he bent over Hadrian and began stripping the wizard of his outer robe and shirt.

Perhaps she should have felt some outrage for the lack of concern shown for the devout and loyal follower. And maybe she did. Maybe, when she had time to stop and process everything she would feel that outrage. But in this moment, Voldemort's lack of interest in Gable only highlighted how strange it was that Walker was receiving his seemingly undivided attention.

Narcissa couldn't stop devouring the changed features of her ward, but she knew her job. Backing away until she was once again beside her son, she called, "Pinky."

A female house-elf materialised in front of her and she wasted no time in ordering the requested items and also asking that Derek Gable be transported to one of the guest bedrooms and his condition monitored.

"Yes, Mistress." The little creature bowed.

"What's wrong with him?"

She turned around at the sound of her son's nervous question to see his innocent mercury eyes looking past her, and locked on Hadrian.

She didn't like it. It must have been a glamour around the boy. It was the only explanation that explained the difference in colour readings and Walker's magical exhaustion. Just who had she been housing?! The fact that she knew nothing about her ward had never felt more threatening. She'd known, the Dark Lord had made sure that she was aware of the anomalies in the muggleborn's character. Things didn't fit, but the child had still seemed so innocuous.

Against her better judgement she had stopped seeing him as a possible threat to her family. She was still aware of his irregularities, but she had subconsciously decided that Hadrian Walker, despite everything, was harmless.

This was different.

This was deliberate, pre-meditated secrecy.

"...I don't know." She whispered hoarsely.

"Le'strange hasn't looked away from him once Mother, why?" Draco sidled closer to her side and lowered his soft voice even further. "Do you think he did something to Hadrian, to hurt him?" He asked urgently.

Unbidden, her own thoughts reared up. Maybe she was reading too much into this. Yes the changes in Hadrian were stark, but perhaps something had happened to the boy? Maybe he didn't want the kind of attention relative attractiveness would bring him? She couldn't draw any conclusions, not yet. Not until she knew the whole story.

Narcissa sighed, reaching up to tuck an escaped curl behind her ear to buy herself some time before she answered. She wished Draco had waited until they were alone before verbalising his thoughts. It wasn't safe to become distracted in the presence of the Dark Lord.

With a sharp crack, the elf returned, passing the potions directly to the man her Mistress had told her too.

The Dark Lord ripped the vials away from the green, outstretched hand and began pouring them down Hadrian's throat one after another.

"Later Draco. And stay back, you haven't been excused, but try to remain unnoticed." She muttered under her breath.

Narcissa paid no attention to Rabastan as he walked over to them; her nervous gaze was fixed on the Dark Lord. His eyes never wavered from the unmoving figure lying on the couch he was standing beside. His wand never faulted its constant, elegantly complex movements of what she could only imagine were powerful healing spells.

"What's he doing?" Draco whispered uneasily.

The magic their Lord was casting right now was complex and difficult. She might not recognise the spells, but she was certain that you'd be hard pressed to find many that would. She considered herself a highly educated witch, continuing her studies far beyond NEWT level after she had graduated. Moreover, the Black family library possessed rare knowledge that made her more than a fair adversary. Still, the magic she was witnessing now was far beyond her knowledge or capability.

"Our Lord is working to stabilise the child. With his magical core so severely depleted the lungs, heart and other involuntary organs are struggling to function." Rabastan answered in a carefully lowered voice.

"And you _found _him passed out?" Draco challenged.

"Hush, Draco!" Narcissa reprimanded harshly, her voice soft.

Her son looked at her with upset eyes and she sighed quietly. "Do you know how he came to be in this condition, Rabastan?"

Instantly, cold brown eyes simmering with animosity pierced her and, unprepared, Narcissa reflexively drew back. "Ironic. I was just about to ask you the same question." He murmured softly.

Angry at herself for betraying her unease, she straightened her posture and fixed the man with an icy glare.

"Stop your squabbling." The sharp order stopped Narcissa's retort in its tracks. "Narcissa, go to the boy's room and search his school trunk for any potions he might have been taking." The Dark Lord hadn't even bothered to glance at them, his concentration focused entirely on whatever magic he was casting.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. Her curiousity begged her to ask why he thought Hadrian had been taking potions, but she wisely held her tongue. Sending Draco a concerned, yet, pointed look to stay out of trouble, she turned to leave when the Dark Lord spoke again.

"Go with her Rabastan." The Dark Lord ordered tersely, his voice impatient as he concentrated on his task.

Scowling delicately, her mouth thinned in offence. She was perfectly capable of completing the task herself.

"Yes, my Lord." Le'strange bowed with a solemn air.

"Be vigilant, Rabastan. No matter what others might think of the slytherin outcast, Mr Walker doesn't strike me as the type to look highly upon intrusions to his privacy." The amused warning had Narcissa sending the obscured figure on her lounge a narrow-eyed stare.

...

Lucius ground his teeth together in agitation.

He'd followed his Lord's instructions and had been waiting at the apparation point for at least five minutes now. Was whoever this person was ever going to show-up?

His day had been progressing precisely as it should. Each event had unfolded just as it was ought to. He had his beautiful wife and son at his side celebrating the holiday as they always did. The mud-blood's presence hadn't even spoiled things. The idiot had barely said a word all day. The only thing he seemed to do was visit the bathroom an unnervingly high number of times. But, he could live with that.

And then, without any warning whatsoever, it all went to hell.

When the younger Le'strange brother came barrelling out of his fireplace, he'd known that Christmas was ruined, but even he hadn't anticipated this disaster.

His joints still ached whenever he walked or stood up too quickly, and despite his gift, Lucius hadn't thought he would see the Dark Lord for at least a few days.

When his Lord had emerged from those flames, his magic poised as if to strike, his shock had frozen him. When the Dark Lord called him over, he'd thought that something was different about the mud-blood's face, but hadn't been able to see clearly enough in the shadowed entrance hall to be certain.

However it had happened, Lucius would have to be a fool not to notice the difference between his Lord's regard for the mud-blood and his dismissal of a badly burnt Gable. And that small voice in the back of his mind that asked, if it had been him that was injured on that floor, felled by their enemies, would he have meant less than the mud-blood too?

Shaking the snow out of his hair, he jammed his hands into his pockets to keep warm, too lost in his thoughts to think of casting a warming charm.

What was so special about Walker?

His head snapped up at the sharp pop of apparation. In front of him stood a middle-aged man, so short, Lucius was able to clearly see the bald spot on his head from where he was standing.

He didn't bother with a greeting. "Follow me." The Malfoy Lord sneered, moving to turn sharply on the heel of his boot.

"Wait!"

Lucius turned back with deliberate slowness, his mouth curled with derision. "I wouldn't advise it," He stated with mock politeness. "The Dark Lord doesn't like to be kept waiting."

The small, overweight wizard straightened and fixed him with a look identical to the one Severus reserved for his most idiotic students. "Nor would he like it if his potions master turned up without his equipment." The little man mocked.

The blonde Lord immediately frowned. Potions Master? "I had thought I knew the man that held that position."

The wizard ignored him, bending down to retrieve a beaten looking case. "Bring that and that, I'll meet you there." He ordered brusquely.

With a close-lipped smile and deceptive respect Lucius asked, "Your name, sir?"

Angry, brown eyes narrowed. "Gregory Weber."

Lucius's eyes widened in disbelief and he ran a quick look down the unkempt person in front of him with new eyes. Gregory Weber was the most talented, innovative potions master in Europe, maybe even the northern hemisphere! He had no idea that his Lord had gained such a follower.

"I apologise, Mr Weber. One can never be too careful in these times." He bowed formally.

The scruffy looking wizard only huffed before pointing to the third briefcase at his side; he already had one in either hand. "Think you can manage that?" He grinned nastily.

By the time Lucius had picked up the handle and turned back around, the man was gone.

...

Knowing that nothing but his silence would be advisable, Draco could only stand there in silence, feeling completely useless, as the Dark Lord's wand continued its unbroken movements in the air above Hadrian, the swishes intricate and controlled.

Standing in his protective shadow, close to the door, Draco deliberately quietened his breath, irrationally convinced that if he made as little sound as possible the Dark Lord might forget he was there completely. Logically, he knew that was ridiculous. His father had told him enough stories to know that the Dark Lord didn't forget anything. But it was comforting to believe so all the same.

The white-bone wand finished its last spell on a sophisticated twist and a slightly darker royal purple than before formed ominously over Hadrian's heart.

He wanted to ask what was wrong with his class-mate. The colour was darker, so clearly, whatever the Dark Lord was doing wasn't solving the problem. The words were there, on the tip of his tongue, begging to be heard, but he couldn't make himself do it. Not when he was the only person in the room. Not when he was alone.

With desperately interested eyes, he watched as Lord Voldemort reached into his pocket extracting several glass potion vials. His eyebrows rose at the strange sight, were those from his personal supply?

He might not know a lot about the dark wizard, but he knew slytherin mannerisms. And slytherins would never give up something of theirs that they might need for themselves at a later time. Self-sacrifice was for fools. His father had told him that when he was barely four years old. It would get you killed, he'd said, people would think you weak, that they could take advantage of you.

So, he might not know a lot about the Dark Lord, but he did know that as the heir of slytherin, giving Hadrian the, no doubt, high quality potions he carried was extremely unorthodox.

At that moment, a short, portly wizard wearing tiny, rectangular glasses balanced precariously on the tip of his red nose rushed through the door and straight into him.

Knocked off balance, Draco stumbled sideways, re-righting himself quickly, only to be startled by an unfamiliar face glaring at him blackly. Unsure, he glanced behind him, his eyes confirming that the Dark Lord's attention was still thoroughly consumed with Hadrian.

Stepping forward, his brows wrinkling in confusion, he asked quietly, "Ah, can I help you?" As he spoke, his eyes kept flicking past the short man looking for any signs of his father.

The stranger let out a snort of contempt. "Yes, you can. You could _move_?" His heavily accented voice drawled disparagingly.

...

Drawing her wand, she tapped the end to the old, beaten looking trunk with a silent unlocking spell. When the tell-tale click of the lock didn't sound, she frowned, and tried a stronger unlocking charm. Shocked that her powerful spell hadn't worked, she nibbled at her lower lip anxiously before quickly focusing back on her task.

Casting a diagnostics charm, her eyes widened in surprise and her words escaped her before she could censor them.

"It's warded!" She exclaimed loudly.

"Here, let me try. Our Lord did say that the boy might have a few surprises." Rabastan said as he brushed past her.

"There are surprises, and then there are wards." She stated seriously, her brow furrowed in concern.

The Le'strange's were notorious for their warding skills. All in the family seemed to possess at least some innate talent for how they worked. She didn't know why, it was a family secret, but she did know that the latent talent had been one of many reasons why Bellatrix had been paired with Rudolphus; in an effort to introduce the gift into the black family line through their heir.

"I can't open it."

Narcissa swung round at the admission with disbelief. Rabastan was standing over the unopened trunk with a peculiar expression; his eyes were looking into the distance, deep in thought.

"What do you mean you can't open it?" Narcissa echoed, "Even if Raven Nadine had put these wards up, which I'm sure she did, you should be able to break through them."

The answer to the wards had come to her very quickly once she'd actually thought about it. But still, it was the truth. Even Nadine couldn't hope to outclass a Le'strange when it came to wards.

"Just that, Narcissa. I can't open it." Rabastan stated slowly, as if speaking to a small child.

Her temper flared. "Don't speak to me like that, Rabastan. I'm not an idiot. Bella's told me with great pride how proficient you and your brother are with wards. Why can't you open it?"She demanded.

Le'strange flung his arms wide open. "It is beyond my skills, Narcissa." He shouted loudly.

She crossed her arms and regarded the man in silence. His body was practically radiating hostility as his brown eyes darted around the room with a small light of curiousity.

Narcissa let her own sky-blue orbs take in the room for the first time; trying to see what had Rabastan so distracted. When nothing jumped out at her, she closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath before looking back at the confusing wizard in front of her.

"Do you have something you want to say to me, Rabastan?" She demanded in a clipped, icy tone. When he turned round to look at her she raised her eyebrows in mocking expectation. "Because judging from your attitude both now and when we were downstairs, you have."

Brown eyes narrowed in warning. "Excuse me?"

Narcissa flicked her wrist at him negligently as if to brush away his words. "Don't do that." She said with irritation. "Don't act as if I'm reading something crazy into your behaviour when I'm not."

Rabastan moved to stand with his two hands behind his back, his posture strong. "You want to know what I have to say to you." His words were like a threat, goading her, daring her to ask.

"I do." Narcissa provoked with a sarcastic air.

He scoffed, running a hand roughly through his hair.

"Fine." He snapped, nodding stiffly. "How the _hell,_" Rabastan stepped forward aggressively, his eyes blazing with suppressed emotion. "Do you _not notice_, that your ward is _so_ ill that he collapsed in the entrance hall, unable to make it to his chambers?! How is it possible to miss something like that?! Why is it that _I _found the child unconscious and his own guardians were none the wiser to his condition?!" He spat venomously.

Narcissa drew back as if struck, all traces of her earlier mocking draining from her features along with her blood.

But he wasn't done. "That child saved your son's life! The Dark Lord requested that you look after him!" He growled angrily.

Narcissa shook her head, falling back a step, "N-no, it wasn't like that, we didn't know!" She whispered hoarsely.

"He's a child, Narcissa! Even if he were a mud-blood it shouldn't have mattered! You were negligent in your duties to him because he got in the way of your family event, isn't that right? You resented the fact that you had to take him on."

She glared at him hotly; recovering from his far too accurate words well enough to launch a counter-offensive.

"And you wouldn't have been?" She accused disbelievingly. "It became all too clear to me not even thirty minutes into speaking with Severus and Dumbledore, that Hadrian Walker couldn't have made himself more of a joke at Hogwarts if he'd tried! You would want your name associated with that? You would have welcomed the responsibility of seeing to it that he do well in his life or have it reflect badly on your House?" She challenged.

Rabastan seemed to feel no pity. "The fact that the Dark Lord had asked it of me is all that I would need."

Narcissa scoffed. "Oh please! I remember the way you looked at him the first time you saw him, Rabastan. The look of disgust on your face was all too plain." She sneered spitefully.

That reminder seemed to get through to him where all others had failed. His raging emotions cooled, as if doused by water, and he retreated back into himself. "...I was wrong." He admitted weakly, his body language almost self-recriminating.

She stared at him in silence for a long moment before smiling bitterly. "Well _so was I_." Narcissa echoed slowly.

Rabastan turned around so that his back was facing her, one forearm resting on the marble protruding from the top of the fireplace. "...How didn't you see that he was sick?" He asked with none of his earlier fire.

Narcissa swallowed dryly at the reminder, grimacing at the painful pull on her throat. "I don't know." She muttered, her voice tired, drained. "He was quiet all day, didn't say more than half a dozen words. I thought that maybe he was angry at having to spend Christmas away from his Mother."

Rabastan's head turned sharply, his profile still half hidden in shadow. "His mother..." He trailed off, his voice hollow, lost in thoughts. "He was adopted, wasn't he?" Narcissa wasn't sure if the abrupt question was rhetorical because she knew for a fact that he already knew that Hadrian had been raised by Raven Nadine.

"Yes." She nodded slowly, "why?"

"You got his file from the ministry archives, right?" Rabastan ignored her question, his tone urgent. "Did it say when he was born?"

"Why?"

"Did it say, Narcissa?!" He demanded angrily.

"March 7th; the year after Draco was born." She gave up the information with reluctance, his tense muscles and the harsh grip his hand had on his jaw odd enough to gain her notice. "He only just made it on the list to attend Hogwarts the year he did. He's right at the cusp of the cut-off; most of the students are months older than him as it is." She continued, volunteering the information, curious as to its possible significance.

"Draco would be..."

She nodded silently, "Eight months older than Hadrian. But Draco isn't the eldest of his year group." Rabastan didn't move, seemingly frozen in place. Her annoyance grew. "What is your sudden interest in Hadrian, Rabastan?"She asked suspiciously. "Why do even care?"

He turned slowly so that she could look directly into his eyes. "Aren't you?" He whispered. "Interested, I mean." Rabastan clarified at her confused look. "For such a simple boy he certainly possesses an abundant number of unique skills."

Narcissa stared at him for several long moments, trying to figure out if he was lying or not before deciding that it wasn't that unbelievable. Her own interests would have been roused in his place.

She sighed tiredly, nodding in understanding, missing the hooded relief hiding behind the more overt curiousness in brown eyes.

She turned back to the still unopened trunk and shook her head in disbelief. "I still cannot believe that you aren't able to open it." She laughed harshly, no humour in the action as she walked out the door.

Rabastan Le'strange stood alone in the silent room, his face like stone. "I can." He whispered to himself.

...

"You could _move_?" He sneered, the ugly expression only thickening his already heavy accent.

Draco glared darkly at the messy looking wizard, not appreciating the way he was speaking to him, especially as he'd done nothing to deserve such treatment.

"I would ask, Mr Weber, that while you are in my home you extend to my family the courtesy of conversing in a pleasant, polite manner." Draco looked up to see his father striding through the doorway carrying a brown leather briefcase.

A cold, unnatural wind suddenly swept through the room, ruffling curtains and cloaks. "Enough." The menacing hiss rang eerily in the space, freezing the parts of him that had remained untouched by the wind. He didn't need to look around to know that it had settled any raised hackles instantly, "Gregory."

Without hesitation, this 'Mr Weber' knelt down on one knee and bowed his head respectfully, "My Lord." He spoke reverently.

Draco swallowed the nervous lump in his throat with difficulty, he could only be thankful that that irritated, intense aura wasn't focused on him.

With a business-like air, the Dark Lord explained what he wanted. "Mr Walker is suffering from severe magical exhaustion, Gregory. I have reason to believe that some sort of potion that he has been ingesting has lead to his condition."

A potion? Draco looked at Hadrian as best he could from his vantage point. The Dark Lord made it sound like his housemate had done this on purpose!

"Do you have any idea what that potion might be, my Lord?" The gruff, rude wizard from before was gone; all that remained was a calm, clinical professional.

"If I did, I wouldn't have had a need to summon you, would I, Gregory?" Red eyes flashed with impatience.

"Yes, my Lord." The man cleared his throat uncomfortably and Draco couldn't blame him. The Dark Lord's ire was terrifying. "There is a potion that I have been designing which might help. It requires that a sample of the subject's blood be added to the mixture and ingested by an experienced potions master with a highly organised mind, normally only seen in masters of Occlumency."

Severus, Draco realised.

"Shall I contact Severus, my Lord?" His father apparently had the same idea.

The short, balding wizard shot the Malfoy Lord a poisonous look. "_I_ am more than capable, my Lord."

Draco suppressed his snort of doubt.

The Dark Lord hummed his agreement, "Indeed. Severus likes to think his skills in both fields are without an equal. The world is aware that when it comes to brewing you outdo him Gregory." Disbelieving, mercury eyes could only watch, as the dangerous wizard reached out a long-fingered hand and brushed back a black curl from Hadrian's sweaty forehead...wait, Black? "As to his prowess in the second...Mr Walker settled that issue just the other day." The Dark Lord smirked viciously. Glancing up, he pierced Weber with a searching stare. "How does it work?" The speed at which the man was able to switch emotions was frightening.

"I've designed the potion so that it actually connects with the drinker's mind. You enter a meditative trance, that shouldn't last longer than a minute. The potion breaks down the components in the blood and an experienced brewer, with a mind organised through occlumency, will be directed by their own magic to the necessary memory which will identify the potion."

"Ingenious," His father commented.

The Dark Lord stared at Hadrian's unconscious form for several tension filled moments before he nodded sharply. "Do it."

Mr Weber sprang into action. He ripped the briefcase from his father's lax grip and moved quickly to Hadrian's side. In the silence of the room he tapped his wand in a complicated sequence against the two clips at the top of the case. Flipping it open, he grabbed a large, muggle type syringe from inside.

"The potion is quick to brew, but I'm missing one ingredient." The wizard spoke quickly, sensing the urgency in the air. "Powered unicorn horn."

"Lucius." The Dark Lord didn't need to say anything else.

His father slowly inclined his head, "We have the ingredient, my Lord...though, due to the value of the ingredients in those stores, the elves can't access it."

Swirling, crimson eyes whipped around to pierce his father. "Then - go - get - it."

Draco sucked in a breath at the pure malice dripping from those slowly enunciated words.

"...I'll go." Draco whispered. When no one reacted, he realised that his voice had been so soft that they hadn't even heard him. Desperate to shift the focus off his father, he forced himself to say it again, louder this time. "I'll go."

Abruptly, blood-red orbs captured him. Draco stopped breathing. "Go." The Dark Lord waved inattentively, his focus already shifting back onto his passed out year-mate.

He couldn't help thinking that despite everything, Hadrian was lucky that he was unconscious right now.

Seeing his father nod silently at him, he turned around and fled the room.

He was worried about Hadrian. He was curious about what had happened and the reason why the Dark Lord seemed to have taken such a personal interest in the Malfoy ward. Even so, that didn't change the fact that for the first time since the Dark Lord stepped out of their fire, he was able to breathe a deep breath of relief.

...

Gregory worked as fast as he could manage without making any mistakes.

The zealous intellectual within him couldn't have been more excited to get the chance to test his potion on a human subject. It was in its final testing phase and he'd been thinking of forcing one of his prospective apprentices' to volunteer as a test case. It would have taken some convincing, the way the potion was designed to connect to the mind was dangerous. They would be risking permanent brain damage if he'd done something wrong.

But this was even better. The subject was even unconscious which, in theory, ought to make the chance of success even higher.

Except, then there was the more rational side of him, the part of him that said that if this didn't work, if the potion failed, the Dark Lord wouldn't be pleased with him.

"Here." The missing ingredient was placed beside him, the young man's presence going unacknowledged.

"The boy's magical exhaustion, how severe is it?" He asked, as he removed the needle from his patient's arm, the glass cylinder filled with blood.

"D-dark purple."

Gregory glanced up, not having expected the stuttering reply to come from the Malfoy heir who was still standing beside him for some reason. The blonde wizard was staring at his patient with wide, incredulous eyes, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Why is Hadrian...?" The pureblood boy stumbled, "Why does he look like that?!"

Gregory scowled, leaning down to lower the flame under the small cauldron he had sitting on a tripod, with careful fingers. "My Lord," He deliberately ignored the teenager's dramatic exclamation. "With that degree of magical exhaustion my patient's body could go into shock at any moment." He cautioned seriously.

Despite his words, his hands never stopped working.

"...Keep going."

...

So it hadn't been a trick of the light. That was his first thought when Draco voiced his shock at seeing Walker's changed face. That what he thought he'd seen when his Lord had given him his orders had been real.

Then he'd felt alarm.

When Weber's hand had paused in its fluid movements, having been distracted by his son, the Dark Lord had sent Draco a bone chilling stare.

Fear.

He'd moved forward and grabbed his son's forearm before he even realised that he needed to intervene. Draco put up no opposition when Lucius, bowing his head to his Lord in silent promise to keep his son quiet, dragged him backwards.

Now Draco just stood beside him in complete silence, his confused eyes locked on Walker, mercury filled with unasked questions.

Lucius scowled darkly at the unconscious mud-blood. He wanted answers. He'd been patient so far, despite knowing that things didn't add up where Walker was concerned. It went against his nature to allow such unknown entities anywhere near his family, but the Dark Lord hadn't given him a choice.

Even though he hadn't liked the situation, he didn't push. Because deep down Lucius thought he had the mud-blood figured out. When he'd been told how Walker had been raised by Nadine many inconsistencies in the boy seemed to suddenly make absolute sense.

The way that Walker had handled the Killing Curse with such ease, how he'd managed to subdue multiple Order members when his son couldn't; the boy had been taught the Dark Arts by his Mother. He'd kept it a secret at Hogwarts for obvious reasons; his abnormal control of an Unforgivable could be explained by the boy having a genuine affinity for the darker branches of magic.

So he'd let it be.

But hiding beneath a glamour? A glamour that made him _more _ordinary looking, that didn't fit.

And suddenly, he had nothing.

If the answer he'd so arrogantly uncovered was wrong, he had no idea who he'd invited into his home.

"Done." Weber announced.

"Drink it." The Dark Lord commanded.

The potions master followed the order immediately, swallowing the liquid in one swig. His eyes instantly took on a glassy, far-away look indicative of a meditative state.

Lucius eyed his Lord in watchful silence.

The knowledge, that a wizard, with unknown potential, had been given free reign of his home was nothing compared to his realisation of exactly what that meant; that the Dark Lord had been fully aware of his ignorance and had_ chosen_ not to inform him.

...

Narcissa observed the unknown wizard sitting on her expensive rug discreetly.

"Surely, a schoolboy's trunk hasn't thwarted you, Rabastan?" The Dark Lord mocked with knowing eyes.

Le'strange bowed his head in acknowledgment of the reprimand. "I apologise for my failure, my Lord. Whoever constructed the wards around the trunk was thorough and smart. Its base is founded on blood, keyed in with a very specific password, as far as I can tell. When I tried searching for holes or weak points the complexity of the ward surprised me. It works like a domino chain, each sequence has been crafted with no loose tie, and each is linked in to another so that if you pull one string you collapse the sequence bringing on some...truly inspired consequences."

Was that _appreciation_ she heard in Rabastan's voice?

The Dark Lord chuckled darkly, the sound sending an unwanted shiver down her spine. "I would expect no less." He grinned wolfishly.

Narcissa couldn't help herself, "My Lord? I'm sorry, but, are you saying that you think..._Hadrian_, constructed such security?" The incredulity in her voice was a little plainer than she had wished. Thankfully, her response seemed to simply entertain the powerful wizard further.

"He's been taking Greccas Trillium." Narcissa's question was ignored as the Dark Lord immediately focused on the potions master that had just emerged from his trance. "In my estimate, at least four doses, possibly more." The portly wizard declared gravely.

The Dark Lord shot Hadrian's body a livid glare while powerful, dark magic flaring threateningly, swelling within the room, leaving her with the intimidating sense of being constricted even though nothing in the room had visibly altered.

Weber, it seemed, was ever the professional. She saw the tightening in his face and the shallower breaths that betrayed his unease, but none of this impacted on the ability to deliver his findings succinctly.

"The boy overdosed. The potion has turned to poison in his system, attacking his body. Normally, in wizards of above average magical power the treatment would be simple. We would forbid patients in his position form performing any magic at all, and hopefully, they have enough power to fight off the effects of overdosing. But, Mr Walker has little to no magic left in his body. I don't know how or why that is, nevertheless, without his magic to fight the toxin, it has run rampant through his system."

The Dark Lord's face could have been carved from stone. "Go on."

The man coughed, pulling at his collar in what looked like an attempt to loosen the tight material. It might have been genuine, but she didn't think so. He was stalling.

"...I've detected signs of recent heart attack, my Lord. His body is just too stressed..." For the first time, Narcissa detected emotion in the previously strict, detached professional. "There's nothing I can do." He finally confessed.

She stared at the world famous wizard in disbelief.

He was telling them that Hadrian was going to die.

Raw magic couldn't be shared. This wasn't like Hadrian had lost too much blood and a donor had to be found. The body would accept no magic but that which possessed its own very unique signature.

It was a magical fact.

It was the reason magical exhaustion was so serious.

She didn't want the boy to die, she didn't know anything of relevance about him yet, but she couldn't overlook the fact that he had saved the most precious thing in her world; her son.

Searching for some sort of direction, her gaze came to rest automatically on the Dark Lord, only to find the sinfully handsome wizard wearing a cruel, calculative expression; his crimson eyes bright with victory.

...

When he had told his Lord that there was nothing he could do, that the boy was going to die, his heart was beating so fast it was probably more exercise than he had done in years.

He'd expected displeasure, pain, yelling.

Not this.

The Dark Lord wore a pensive look on his face as he regarded his patient in silence.

"Are you certain that there is nothing, _nothing, _you can do?" A haggard, shocked voice drew his attention easily.

He recognised the man. Notorious escaped criminal, Rabastan Le'strange. He was staring at him intensely, as if willing him to find a miracle that would cure the boy.

Before he could speak, a silken, intrigued voice filled the silence. "Why so concerned, Rabastan?" The Dark Lord questioned, an interested brow raised.

Le'strange seemed at a loss for words, his eyes darting between his patient and their Lord in indecision.

"What about me?" Gregory couldn't stop his sneer as the Malfoy heir spoke up with a desperate air, inadvertently saving Le'strange from answering. "Would the life-debt allow me to somehow give Hadrian some of my magic without him rejecting it?"

Hadrian Walker was a lost cause, why were they all denying it?! The boy had been stupid enough to overdose in the first place, as far as he was concerned this was just reaping the consequences of your actions.

"No." He snapped, before turning back to the only wizard in the room that he had to answer to.

"If Mr Walker had more of his own magic, what then, Gregory?" The Dark Lord's casual inquiry had him frowning in bewilderment, but he answered all the same.

"It would have to be a significant amount. Enough to hold off the poison and allow his body to recover naturally as his stores had time to refill." He informed his Lord slowly, allowing his voice to reflect his confusion.

Without warning, the Dark Lord's lips pulled up in a vicious, sinister smirk and he chuckled slowly. "Perfect." The one word was drawn out, every vowel, every consonant caressed in a pleased seduction.

Gregory could only watch, frozen in his spot at the abrupt change in the Dark Lord's demeanour. The seductive, lazy behaviour of previously tense, powerful magic sending embarrassing shivers down his spine.

The Dark Lord lent down, slowly swiping a thumb across a small mark on the unclothed bicep of his patient. "It's the perfect punishment." His Lord murmured under his breath, the absolute stillness of the room's occupants ensuring that they all heard the private provocation.

Gregory looked up only to his see his own confusion reflected back at him. All except, Le'strange. Le'strange was staring at the tiny mark with scrutinising eyes filling with growing suspicions.

Dark magic suddenly gathered in the room, expanding, searching out targets, eager to please its calling master. Gregory raised a useless hand to his throat in a futile effort to defend himself from the overwhelming power in that magic.

All at once, the crushing power vanished and yet, seemed to coalesce into a single point.

The unconscious body lying on the settee twitched.

Gregory sensed the weight suddenly pushed against his patient and felt a certain, real horror to know that the Dark Lord would do this to a dying boy.

His patient frowned slightly, and instinctively pulled his body as far away from the tremendously heavy foreign magic leaning on him, as he was able to in his condition.

A small, soundless concussion ripped through the room.

Gregory fell back in shock, only his grip on the chair beside him saved him from an embarrassing fall.

His patient's unmoving body was growing, changing, altering. He grew inches in seconds, his chest almost doubled in size. The hollows beneath his cheekbones deepened, his facial structure altering into one of devastating attractiveness. Lean muscle grew underneath skin, healthy and strong.

And then his patient arched his back as he drew in one long, deep, clear sounding breath.

Sweet Darkness!

Stunned as he was at the sheer level of advanced magic he had just witnessed, Gregory Weber was, nevertheless, ever the professional.

He sprang forward and quickly cast a spell.

A deep, ruby red pulsed heatedly above the boy's, no; he mentally corrected himself, above the young man's chest.

"Is that enough magic?" The Dark Lord asked the needless question with daring eyes.

Gregory just nodded. "He'll be fine." He said on a whisper. The amount of magic that the young man must have been suppressing...! "That was...more than enough, my Lord."

...

Blood-red orbs floated lazily over dumbfounded faces, deep satisfaction exuding from every pore.

He smirked.

Looking down at Hadrian, he allowed his eyes to trace the far more pleasing features that were the boy's natural visage at his leisure.

"Yes," He murmured softly. "A fitting punishment, I think."

Hadrian had brought his exposure on himself.

He grinned darkly.

Hadrian would be forced to fight with all his talents intact from now on. There would be no hiding this from the upper echelons of the Dark, no way to explain it away.

The Malfoy's thought they were shocked now, his smirk grew crueller; Hadrian's real deception had been the one of the mind.

They had no idea what the real Walker was capable of.

...

_That was so much harder to write than I thought it would be! And the longest I've written! I had so many ideas which I wanted to use, only to discard them. I must have re-written the chapter at least five times. Any feedback you could give me I would really appreciate! At this point I'm wondering whether I've worked myself into knots! Hope not ;) _


	26. Fight Back or Fold

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I've replied to all of you now, thank-you for the feedback! I hope you like this chapter just as much...it certainly gave me enough trouble ;D_

_..._

Awareness returned slowly.

Dreams seemed to fade into nothingness, losing their direction as consciousness returned to him bit by bit.

He was warm.

The observation came suddenly, and almost at once he realised that he was wrapped in soft cotton sheets, of course he was warm.

The impenetrable darkness that had held him so tightly abruptly lifted, and he felt the gentle sunlight against his face and closed eyes.

Hadrian breathed in deeply, the air cool, but crisp, and absolutely wonderful.

And it was the strangeness of feeling appreciation for such a small thing like breathing clearly that made him question, made his brow twitch.

And with the power of a dam breaking, he remembered.

His chest had hurt. He hadn't been able to breathe.

What had happened?!

He frowned lightly, distracted by an incessant prodding at the edge of his consciousness, demanding his attention.

He knew that feeling...

Racing thoughts screeched to a halt; self-preservation exerting its authority over his psyche and grounding him in the dangerous reality of now.

Someone was in the room.

Bright viridian orbs snapped open.

There, sitting in a simple, high backed chair beside his bed, ruby eyes locked on Hadrian with intimidating focus was the Dark Lord.

His warm, secure cacoon of expensive sheets and luxurious bedding immediately lost any feeling of comfort.

Hadrian abruptly pushed up from the mattress, moving to throw the blankets off him and get out of bed as swiftly as possible, when a warning weight pushed against his bare chest, stopping him.

He had no idea why, perhaps he could blame it on having been asleep mere moments before, but for some reason the only rational cause for the restrictive weight forcing his body backwards didn't immediately register with him.

Glancing down, he saw a long-fingered hand splayed against his skin.

Faded bronze skin.

Any anger at being restrained so arrogantly abruptly fled him.

The hand that had stopped him from getting up was pushing against a body that was not supposed to be there. In place of a once skinny, white chest was lightly tanned skin wrapped pleasingly around lean, athletic muscles.

His glamours...

It only took the mental acknowledge to feel the difference in his body and know that he was himself.

His persona lacked the muscle that his real image held. He always felt tired when he wore the glamours, contained, made smaller. His real body was strong. Muscles woke wishing to be used, to be put to work.

"What did you do?" Hadrian breathed hoarsely.

The hand holding him still suddenly tensed, fingers curling so that nails dug into his chest in punishment.

"You are a fool, Hadrian." The Dark Lord hissed with whip-like sharpness. "You did all but open your arms wide and hand someone the dagger when you decided to use the Greccas Trillium potion."

Emerald widened. "How did you-"

Lord Voldemort leaned forward so that his face was mere inches from Hadrian's own, the deliberately added weight on his chest sending unexplained lances of pain shooting through his body, making him gasp for breath.

"Do you know how pathetic you looked? Lying there on the marble floor, utterly defenceless? Do you know how close to death you came, Hadrian?" The cruel taunting ignited his anger, and he brought his hand up to shove the restraining hand away from his body.

He coughed, his whole body shaking with the movement. "What are you talking about?" He growled; his confusion painfully stark.

Apparently, Hadrian's physical discomfort was a source of calm for the man.

The Dark Lord leaned back, his previously irate magic now sweeping across Hadrian's body in lazy brushes, as if to soothe his hurt.

Suppressing his huff of frustration, Hadrian went to get up; intensely uncomfortable with how submissive he felt right now. He desperately wanted an answer for why, how and if anyone had seen his true appearance, but couldn't abide having this exchange while he was lying horizontal in bed with the Dark Lord looming over him.

"If you do not lye still, Hadrian, I feel it only fair to warn you that I have absolutely no compunction against tying you to this bed." Crimson eyes smirked at him, as if sensing his disquiet.

Hadrian gaped at the calm Dark Lord in disbelief. Did he just?! A snort escaped him, "Fair? _You_?" He sneered.

The irritatingly handsome man smiled sinisterly, "Don't be so quick to judge, Hadrian."

"Your earlier actions would seem to indicate concern for my health to be a somewhat useless sentiment, my Lord." Hadrian countered with mocking formality.

"And yours a lack of any sort of common sense or good judgment, Hadrian." Daring ruby orbs held his stare, making the seriousness of his warning incapable of being misunderstood, no matter how ridiculous.

Unable to stomach being so obedient, yet not willing to provoke the silent fury resting behind that currently calm visage, Hadrian grabbed the pillow next to him and shoved it behind him as he scooted upright. At least this way he was now leaning against the headboard.

Voldemort chucked, amused by his small rebellion.

Hadrian clenching his fists tightly, willing away the flippant comment on the tip of his tongue. He was no coward, but only an idiot would knowingly incite a Dark Lord's ire without good reason. And however much it rankled, stung pride wasn't good enough.

He remembered, belatedly, that balling his hands was a very stupid move, the last time he did so the tight lance of cramping across his chest had left him unable to draw in breath. Instinctively, he braced himself for the pain.

Only...it never came. There was no pain, he realised with suspicious pleasure. The aching in his limbs was gone, the rolling of his stomach nonexistent. He twisted his neck slightly, no headache!

Emerald orbs locked instantly on the dangerous dark wizard sitting so lazily beside him. The man knew. If the state of his body and his earlier comments hadn't made that clear, the knowing, furious light in those blood-red eyes clinched it.

Not even bothering with denials or explanations, Hadrian went straight for the jugular.

"What happened?"

The dark tendril that was floating across the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin there in a deceptively casual brush he was doing his utmost to ignore, suddenly froze.

The Dark Lord's lip curled up in a half sneer, "Magical exhaustion. You weren't able to fight the...poison." The last word was threatening.

Magical exhaustion? But from what?

Yes, he'd been dizzy and nauseous the day before, but nothing to the extent of what he later experienced. Unless...his eyes fell closed in unwelcome realisation, of course. Already low on magic, he'd forced his body to manifest its magic outside his body. A task that was already a serious drain on those learning the skill, he simply hadn't had the magic to spare for such a gruelling endeavour.

He'd left his body with nothing to fight with.

The simplicity of the answer galvanised him.

"So you took down my glamours?" He stately flatly.

His mind was racing. Had anyone seen? He'd collapsed in the entrance hall, who had found him? Had they actually sent for the Dark Lord? It didn't seem plausible, but what other explanation was there?

Dark wisps of magic brushed teasingly against his skin, leaving heated trails in their wake, never leaving him be. Employing his formidable will, Hadrian betrayed no evidence of the now near constant tingles that were ghosting across his body, and, determinedly ignoring the intensity in those eyes, forced his mind to concentrate.

He refused to give the man the satisfaction of seeing him react to the tactile assault, whatever its purpose. "How did you know?" Hadrian asked suspiciously. "I can't see the Malfoy's suddenly experiencing such an attack of conscience that they would contact you, my Lord."

Red orbs darkened noticeably with the reminder, the man's distraction unintentionally granting Hadrian a welcome reprieve in the Dark Lord's unrelenting attack on his senses.

"Not quite. Your body was so desperate for magic of any kind that it tried, unsuccessfully, to access the magic that forms the bond between us. Without your mind conscious to direct its actions your magic made a crude plea for help."

Hadrian stiffened at the insinuation, he'd never beg.

"You were minutes away from dying when I got here."

Hadrian turned away, his stomach falling with the knowledge of how close he'd come to death.

"I warned you." The dark croon had him swinging round with narrowed eyes. "If you had hurt yourself in any way while trying to avoid the bond, I warned you that there would be consequences."

Hadrian felt a flame of anger start in the pit of his stomach, his quick mind easily understanding the arrogant laughter in those crimson eyes.

"They know." Hadrian stated darkly.

The sinfully handsome wizard grinned cruelly.

"A most fitting punishment, I think."

"You bastard." Hadrian snarled.

In a quick, violent move, the Dark Lord darted forward and grabbed a fistful of his thick, black hair, yanking his neck back sharply.

Hadrian gasped in a combination of shock and pain, "You are treading on thin ice, Hadrian."Hot air bushed against his ear, the Dark Lord's body hovering inches from his own. "You are lucky that I have done nothing but expose you for who you are to the Dark. I have been lenient with you..." Hadrian glared heatedly up at the ceiling, his own temper rising. Lenient?! He'd destroyed everything! "Anyone else and I would have left them to the fate they so stupidly brought on themselves."

"Then why didn't you?" Hadrian snarled through gritted teeth.

Long moments of silence past, the pair locked close together.

Becoming more and more uncomfortable with the all too pleasant sensation of hot puffs of air against his neck, Hadrian opened his mouth to demand he be released when, without warning, warm lips brushed gently against the skin underneath his ear.

A soft gasp of surprise escaped him.

Before he had time to even comprehend, let alone react, the soft brush of lips abruptly altered to one of possessive dominance.

A hot, open mouthed kiss unhesitatingly claimed the spot where his pulse was beating frantically beneath his skin.

His whole body tensed as exhilarating sparks of pleasure shot through his body with alarming intensity and speed. The hand holding his hair so roughly immediately tightened its grip in a silent warning to stay still.

The hell he would.

He wouldn't be played a fool like this again.

With an effort, he ripped his head to the side, away from that all too intoxicating, talented mouth, uncaring of the strands of hair ripped free.

As soon as the grip on his hair loosened, unconcerned with if it was done purposefully or not, Hadrian threw the sheets off his body and swiftly climbed off the bed on the furthest side from the Dark Lord's infuriatingly composed figure.

As he stood upright and ran a rough hand through his hair, somewhere in the back of his mind he was thankful for the lack of dizziness or fatigue that had plagued his body for all too long now.

"You have the most mercurial mood of any person I have ever encountered!" Hadrian spat with a hostile air, despising the fact that his neck was still tingling pleasantly.

"Do I?" The Dark Lord stood slowly from his seat, looking very pleased with himself, crimson eyes bright as they raked his half-dressed figure.

Hadrian wanted to scoff at the man's guiltless visage.

Lord Voldemort was a seducer. One of such talent that even the boy wonder had recognised and heard of his reputation for it.

And he had no intention of becoming his latest conquest.

Hadrian gathered himself, taking a moment to calm his emotions, knowing that it certainly wouldn't get him anywhere with an opponent such as this. "Don't play with me." Hadrian said with serious eyes.

Voldemort arched a single brow, "Is that what I'm doing?"

Hadrian sent him a sardonic look. If the Dark Lord thought him some inexperienced, shy prude, he was sadly mistaken.

He might not be vain about his looks, but he enjoyed the effect they had on people. He was handsome; he was almost always the most handsome person in whatever room he walked into. Hadrian wasn't oblivious to that fact, nor was he uncomfortable with it. On the contrary, the way he could make most individuals blush, with a well-placed grin or appreciative look was terribly entertaining.

He was no stranger to seduction; he simply preferred to be the one doing the seducing.

"You'd know more than I, my Lord."Hadrian smiled with misleading passiveness.

The Dark Lord laughed lowly, eyes gleaming with appreciation. "You're angry." He observed with amusement. "And while understandable, I couldn't care less about how you feel about it. Your exposure and its aftermath are your punishment for acting so stupidly."

Hadrian fumed silently. If the man hadn't wished to test his loyalty to the dark in such a manner he wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures in the first place.

Voldemort walked over to the window, gazing out at the frosted landscape, his voice, when he spoke, curious. "However, I must confess, your evident attachment to your mask continues to bemuse me, Hadrian. You once told me that you enjoy being underestimated; enjoy the high that such intricate deception affords you. Perhaps that was true when you were younger, more vulnerable, but you have learnt all you can from your mask. Your ability to manipulate people and situations to your desire impresses even me."

Hadrian narrowed his eyes on the man's handsome profile, red flags going off in his mind.

"I've said it before. However useful in the past, your mask is a hindrance to you now. It is limiting your ability to grow in other ways, to become better in other fields. You have mastered the talents needed to disguise yourself to a remarkable level, now you must master other things."

Hadrian stared at the man hollowly.

While some of his 'wise' words might have been true, his own thoughts had certainly been turning over the same conclusion recently, that wasn't what infuriated him.

Voldemort was attempting to pull the wool over his eyes by spouting _magnanimous _motivations while, at the same time, in the same breath, he praised those same skills he was endeavouring to fool.

It was insulting.

No matter if it was true, the Dark Lord hadn't unveiled him in an act of kindness, or to do him a favour, his actions were motivated purely by self-interest.

"Don't insult me, my Lord." Hadrian said softly. "We both know that my talents are more useful to you if I'm not concerned with hiding them."

The dark magic that deliberately brushed against his bare stomach after he spoke held the inherent taste of amusement.

"True." The Dark Lord nodded, his face revealing none of the humour Hadrian had sensed. "Nevertheless, I could count on one hand the people I know who wouldn't have been taken in by a similar manipulation. The fact that you recognised my intensions, in spite of your age, simply illustrates my point. You have no more to learn, no more to gain from your mask. Accept that." Voldemort stated forcefully.

Keeping a tight hold on his anger was difficult; the man had run ruff-shod over his life and decisions without care or, more accurately, interest. "There were drawbacks, of course." Hadrian nodded stiffly in acknowledgment, for some reason wanting the man to understand the magnitude of his actions, to comprehend his resentment. "But there was a certain freedom to it..." He paused, wondering on the wisdom of his next words. "When you were at Hogwarts; were you limited in any way?"

"Dumbledore liked to keep a close eye on me, yes." The Dark Lord humoured him, eyes still roving the grounds.

Hadrian smiled without humour, "The Headmaster had no idea who I was before this year. My head of house couldn't stand the sight of me, my housemates thought me an inept moron; I could do whatever I wanted in Hogwarts for the simple reason that no one cared enough to monitor me. Between the two of us, who do you think was more limited in the type of magic they learned?" He challenged in a knowing voice.

The Dark Lord smirked coldly, "Perhaps."

He turned back to lock eyes with Hadrian's defiant expression.

"But such a luxury was never meant to last forever. Rumours will spread, and the light will take notice of you. Their lack of information will, in all likelihood, make them hostile and wary of you. The only thing you can do now is fight back or fold...I already know you won't fold." He smirked smugly, "So you'll fight."

The Dark Lord abruptly turned around and headed for the door, speaking as he walked, "You should know Hadrian, I have given those who saw your unveiling no orders to keep the information to themselves."

Hadrian seethed silently, unsurprised, but no less furious at the confirmation.

At the door, the Dark Lord curved back slightly, a grin evident despite the obscured expression. "You have been sleeping for fourteen hours already. If you wish to slow those rumours that have, no doubt, already begun to spread, you will need to exert your dominance over your guardians."

Hadrian glowered blackly.

"I'm hardly so stupid as to not have come to that conclusion already, my Lord." Hadrian growled, gnashing his teeth together in an effort to stifle his fury. "Unfortunately, however, Le'strange, for one, seems to be beyond my reach." He spoke with forced civility, fully aware that despite the wizard's pleasure with his unwitting unveiling, Voldemort's anger at his actions was far from sated.

A dark laugh spread through the room, his neck tingling in remembered pleasure at the sound, "I doubt that mere geography would thwart you, Hadrian. Even so, something tells me you needn't worry overly much about Rabastan..."

Hadrian frowned in bewilderment. He remembered the wizard that tumbled out of the fire, there was no way he hadn't been an eye-witness.

The Dark Lord turned back towards him, a strange, unreadable look in his eyes, "Rabastan was strangely protective of you. One might even say..._desperate_ to see you live. I wonder why that is?"

Hadrian let the question hang, staring at the dangerously handsome man in silence, unwilling to play his game and prod for more information as was no doubt, the Dark Lord's primary intention. He wasn't about to take the wizard at his word. Until he had reason to think differently, Le'strange's behaviour meant nothing to him beyond the possibility of him keeping his silence.

Without another word, Lord Voldemort smirked, tipping his head in an old world acknowledgement, opened the door, and swept from the room.

Hadrian didn't move.

Facing the open door, face guarded, completely silent; he waited.

Nothing but quiet intruded from the hall outside, but still, he waited.

Without warning, explanation or reason, the overwhelming presence on the edge of his consciousness suddenly vanished.

Hadrian exhaled loudly.

Letting his body relax and go limp, he fell back onto the mint green settee in front of the fireplace with closed eyes, the unhindered movements of his natural body making the decidedly casual action, effortlessly elegant.

They knew.

...

"...Why do you want me to go?" Draco asked his Mother strongly, pushing away the floo-powder she tried to press into his hands with irritation. "I'm of age, for Merlin's sake! I have just as many questions as you and Father have, probably more! I want to be here when you confront him!"

He'd watched, these past few hours, as his forever cool, collected parents had shouted, questioned and hypothesised themselves into knots.

"Draco," The call was sharp and abrupt. His father, buried deep in his thoughts, had heard none of the exchange between mother and son.

He didn't even need to hear the question, he'd been asked the same things over and over again, as if his answer might change, or he would suddenly remember something that would give them more information.

Draco exhaled angrily, "No, there was never any inconsistency in his behaviour that would have alluded to glamour spells. Yes, I am sure. No, I am not forgetting anything. Yes, it is an enormous thing to miss. No, I didn't see anything incriminating this term. No, his marks have never been anything other than constantly below average. No, he didn't ever have a stand-out class."

He threw his Father a pointed look when he opened his mouth to interrupt.

"Yes, I might be forgetting something. Yes, I ignored him. Yes, I did think he wished to be a part of our group. No, I did not have any idea who his adopted Mother was. Yes, I would have noticed if he had slipped and mentioned her in passing. No, I don't believe anyone at Hogwarts knows about him. Yes, I might be wrong about that. Yes, I was just as shocked, dumbfounded, and astonished and am reeling just as much as everyone else is!" Draco finished his monologue in a rush, his chest heaving.

His parents stared at him in silence before his father sighed in defeat and headed towards the sidebar.

"It's eight o'clock in the morning."His mother pointed out to her husband, somehow managing to find the energy to inject disapproval into her voice.

"I believe that this is a special circumstance." Lucius stated curtly.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, dropping the argument with uncharacteristic swiftness.

"Draco," His mother's eyes begged for understanding, her body language hinting at urgency. "Please, the others will be here in just a few minutes, we _need_ you to go to the Greengrass estate. All the other parents are sending their children their too. Your father and I have to stay here, but we need you to be our eyes and ears around your friends. Try to find out how the other House's are taking the news about Walker. We've trained you to do this, Dragon. Please, don't think we are blaming you, or getting rid of you. It's not that at all, we just..."

When she seemed unable to verbalise her thoughts, his father finished for her.

"Although the Walker issue concerns all of your friend's families, we are at a distinct disadvantage, here." His voice was icy, absent of any emotion. "We've been housing the boy and only now is this situation coming to light. We _must _know how they are reacting to the news. Your classmates will be shocked and, in all likelihood, more open with their opinions then they ought to be right now."

Draco frowned in distaste. He didn't enjoy the idea of spying on his friends, especially as he'd achieve that only by taking advantage of the trust they had in him to do it.

"The fact that you and your housemates are as equally bemused and astonished as we are, is concerning." His mother pressed the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

Draco scowled, "Why is everyone so focused on that?! Lord and Lady Greengrass, Zabini, Nott, Parkinson. What happened here was...shocking! How did you expect us to react?" He exclaimed in frustrated confusion.

His father's identical mercury orbs glanced up over his crystal glass full of amber liquid, "Can you think of no reason, Dragon?"

His ire left him quickly. Draco glanced at his mother only to see her expectant face staring back at him. It was almost like he was twelve again. His parents posing questions to him to make him think, so he could come to the answer on his own.

He thought back to what he knew of Walker over the years at Hogwarts, there wasn't much. He really, just hadn't cared enough to have many memories of his dorm-mate.

"I don't know..." Draco mused, thinking out loud. "He's always been...disgusting seems such a ridiculous word to assign to a person, but Walker...he wasn't a non-entity." He implored his parents to understand, surprised when he realised that he had their full attention. "Ever since we were eleven, he would interrupt our conversations with the most...stupid comment that you just knew was him trying to please his way into the group. The sort of things that, when you hear someone of rank say at parties you have to stop yourself from turning away in disgust."

"In retrospect, do you think that impression he left was deliberate?" Narcissa asked; her eyes sharp.

"Knowing what I know now, I would_ have_ to say yes." Draco shrugged helplessly. "But to be honest, I'm having a hard time reconciling what I know to be the truth, with what I feel to be the truth." He ran a hand through his hair in agitation.

Truthfully, he hadn't been able to think past what he had seen beneath the glamours. Walker was...he forcefully pushed the image aside, embarrassed.

It had been late. He had been tired, and reeling from the shock of discovering his family's ward had magical exhaustion. And there hadn't been much light in the room. Shadows had the uncanny ability of distorting reality.

He was remembering wrong.

He was sure that his imagination must had just taken the unreal, out of this world situation and superimposed a visage on Walker that would fit the picture.

He refused to believe anything different. Besides, the Dark Lord had levitated Hadrian out of the room only seconds after breaking the spells surrounding his housemate.

He couldn't have seen Walker correctly.

It was the only...logical explanation he was willing to entertain.

"Think, Draco." His father ordered. "He can't be both. If Walker isn't who you think he is, isn't who he set himself up as, he has been acting this whole time."

He shook his head firmly. "No-one can act as someone else for almost seven years without slipping up, father. Yes, for some reason that totally bemuses me, he changed his looks. But even if he was hiding his magical power, no-one can maintain a different personality without it having at least some, and probably more than that, basis in fact." Draco dismissed the notion as preposterous, fanciful even.

His mother gripped his arm tightly, the tension behind the grasp surprising him, making him glance down into serious sky blue eyes. "But if he had?" Her soft question threw him.

Was this why his parents were acting as they were? The many reasons that Walker might choose to hide behind glamours disturbed and worried him, but he hadn't even considered...they couldn't seriously think...his whole personality couldn't be _fake!_...Was that even possible?

But...what would mean? His mind, against his will, turned the question overly slowly, as if hesitant of conclusions it knew wouldn't be welcome.

What if the impossible was the truth? What if Walker _had _been acting the whole time he had known him?

His mind instantly rebelled, scoffing at such a hypothetical. Only the strength of his confusion at what he'd seen last night allowed him to push past that final barrier, the one that had refused to budge since the start of term. Things he had refused to consider in the past suddenly gained credence.

If Hadrian was acting...and none of them had ever seen a crack in this hypothetical facade... it could only mean...the only _logical _conclusion was...

He'd fooled them.

Was that level of deception even feasible?! It seemed absurd!

But, if it was true...

"...We know nothing about him..." Draco breathed.

He glanced up at his parents in dismay. This was the reason for the late night floo calls to his housemates, the reason they'd all been asked if they were wholly surprised by the glamours.

Had Hadrian never made a mistake?

Was that even possible?

They had to have noticed something!

Something small that with their new knowledge, suddenly made sense!

His eyes darted frantically between his mother and father, "I really,_ honestly_, never had any idea...there was nothing..." He trailed off. "What does it mean?" Draco demanded; his voice shaky.

"We don't know." His father said as he downed the rest of his half glass of whiskey. "And that's dangerous."

"Please, go." His mother shoved the floo-powder into his unresponsive hands, pushing him hurriedly towards the fire. "We have enough questions that need answering already. We do not need the added complication of worrying about how the others are taking the news. Do this for us, Draco." She stated forcefully.

He nodded mutely. His mind racing.

Narcissa cupped his chin, pecking him hastily on the cheek, "You are old enough now to understand that family loyalty comes before friendship, my son." Her eyes were sad, but strong. "Don't disappoint us."

...

Neville forced himself to dig the small shovel into the dirt gently, determined not to allow his bad mood to harm his plants in any way.

His Gran was driving him crazy.

He'd been at school when the Le'stranges had escaped from Azkaban prison. When he'd picked up the Daily Prophet and seen the sensationalist article he knew he ought to be feeling more turmoil than...nothing. And then the guilt had set in. Guilt for feeling less outrage, anger, fear and fury than he should.

It had been odd. All the teachers treated him like glass those last few weeks before the break. All that pity and compassion concentrated so singularly on him had wreaked havoc on his system. His empathy unable to handle so much focused emotion.

He'd been looking forward to Christmas. Even knowing that his Gran would be in a right state because of the news, he'd welcomed the chance to leave the choking atmosphere of Hogwarts.

What was that annoying Muggle saying about the gift of hindsight?

He hadn't expected it. The possibility that she would act in such a way had never occurred to him.

They'd been having dinner his first night back, just the two of them.

When his ability had first manifested his Gran, already proficient in the mind arts, had quickly sought out further instruction in order to strengthen her occlumency barriers. He'd often wondered over the years whether she did that so that he wouldn't have to be constantly bombarded by her emotions, or because she simply didn't like the idea of him knowing what she was feeling.

Experience told him it was probably a combination of the two.

But that night, her emotions had been too strong for her occlumency barriers to hold back. Her mood would fluctuate between nervousness, rage and self-confidence as he watched her pick at her food.

When the house-elves served desert, she finally spoke.

He'd never felt such betrayal in his life.

She wanted to _give _him, or rather, his empathy, to Dumbledore; for him to use as he would in the war.

His reaction had shocked her to the core, he'd felt that, though he had no idea why it should.

He'd refused.

Unequivocally, unreservedly, he'd screamed at the top of his lungs that if she sold him to Dumbledore he'd renounce her as family.

_Well_, if _that_ didn't get a reaction, and at the same time inject the first dose of wary caution into her psyche for the first time in thirty years!

But she hadn't left him alone about it. Hounding him about duty. Duty to the Longbottom honour, to his parents, to their vengeance.

Didn't she understand?

Neville didn't remember them. How could he feel the all encompassing need for revenge that she did when he had no idea what he was missing? Intellectually, he knew his parents were good people, he'd been told often enough, but it was knowledge of fact rather than one of feeling.

She wanted to use him. Exploit him. Literally gift him to Dumbledore like he had no value beyond what his ability could gain them.

It made him more angry than he could ever remember being.

Reaching for the watering can, he sprinkled a generous amount of liquid onto the purple leaves, smiling a small smile of satisfaction when the plant shivered with life, and a brilliant yellow flower bloomed before his eyes.

"Neville?" The sharp call of his name had his shoulders tensing.

He didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge her. She wouldn't be surprised.

Since that night, he'd refused to speak with her, giving her the silent treatment until she gave up her notion. Surprise, surprise, no progress had been made.

"Neville," She said sternly, a disapproving note to her voice. "We have a guest."

An icy chill of dread and horror ran down his spine at those words.

He spun around to see his Gran leaning out of the greenhouse gesturing to someone.

Desperately hoping he was wrong, he concentrated on her smothered emotions; for the first time seeing occlumency as an obstacle rather than a shield through which he might protect himself from other's emotions.

She was feeling anxious, unsure, yet also smug.

His heart-rate accelerated; his panic rising.

Dumbledore stepped through the foggy glass door with a wide smile on his weathered face. "Neville, my boy," It had always been Mr Longbottom before. "Your Grandmother has just informed me! It is almost fortuitous that you should come to us in such a time of need. Why, even with all my years, I've never been fortunate enough to come across an empath." He smiled gently. "You should be very proud of yourself, young man, your parents certainly would be."

He was trapped.

...

"...It's not that simple, Martin!" Narcissa stated with a carefully controlled voice, her comment directed at Lord Nott.

"Nothing about this is simple, but we can't just stand around and do nothing!"

Lady Parkinson bristled, "We haven't been doing nothing!"

"Oh, Salazar, don't even get me started, Vera. The fact that this boy has hidden himself so completely that Draco and his classmates have nothing to add to this discovery is beyond me."

"That isn't fair, Lucius. He's been with you all Christmas break and you and Narcissa never expected this." The Head of the Greengrass family frowned defensively, not appreciating that his daughter, Daphne, had been included in the less than positive observance.

"Expected what, Roberto? We don't know what it is we witnessed! Yes, it's clear the mud-blood's hiding from something, but what? Why? How? These are the questions we need answers to and we have nothing!"

Lord Zabini held up a placating hand, "We've all already put our feelers out. With five of the most prominent British pureblood families searching for information, we're bound to discover everything we wish to know about this boy."

"Cassius is right, Lucius. And we know more now. That can only lead to more information coming to light; you just have to be patient."

"Narcissa," Lady Parkinson leaned forward in her seat, a delicate frown creasing the skin between her eyebrows. "I don't mean to be rude, but how is this issue of concern to us? I admit that a wizard that has managed to hide so effectively is worrisome, however, besides your connection to the boy through the ward-ship, is this matter really of such concern to our families?"

Lady Zabini sighed in exasperation, "Of course it affects us, Vera. Whoever this boy is, he has been living in the Slytherin dorms for almost seven years, attending classes with your daughter."

"Katherine is correct," Lord Nott ran his hands over his face, "The fact is, our children know nothing of this wizard. Theo couldn't tell me anything of use. And until we know what sort of person we are dealing with, a potential threat has had years of time to observe our heirs unencumbered. This affects us all."

"You say the Dark Lord took down the spells around the boy. Did you get the impression that he discovered them last night or has known for some time?"

The Malfoy Lord glanced at his long time friend sharply, "I have no evidence to support it, but I believe our Lord has been aware of Walker's deception for some time, Roberto." He admitted stiffly.

"When you told us that the boy survived such a level of magical exhaustion, I couldn't believe it." Lady Greengrass laughed hollowly. "Did you ever identify the reason behind his exhaustion?"

"No. And, before you ask Fiona, neither Lucius or myself noticed any symptoms either. When I think of the discipline and practice he must be capable of, to hide that amount of pain so completely...is it any wonder why our children have nothing to add?"

"It's ridiculous! How could a child hide so well? The spells that you describe alone...!"

"Well, perhaps someone placed the glamours on him, Casius?"

"Even if that were true, Martin, the spells would still have had to have been anchored to the boy's own magical core if he was sustaining them for periods of time as long as Hogwart's terms!"

Lord Greengrass broke in with a dark tone, "For the boy's magic to go from dark purple to red, as you say it did. Do you realise how much magic he must have had locked away? Not just encasing him in glamours so thick they didn't even trigger the wards around Malfoy Manor, but in order, I can only guess, to suppress his magical power so that those he wished would remain oblivious to his power!"

"We've been over this already, Roberto. We all agree, of course, that all efforts should be exerted to discover all we can about the mud-blood. But-"

"Do we even know if he is a mud-blood, Fiona?"

"Why would anyone masquerade as a muggleborn within Slytherin house, Casius? For a person who, I can only guess, was trying desperately to remain unnoticed, why take on a label that would attract so much attention?"

"I'm not sure it was as simple as that Katherine. By being a muggleborn, yes he was noticeable, but the children also didn't give him the time of day, either."

"I don't know why we're even arguing about this." Lucius grumbled as he paced in front of the fire.

"Contacting his friends, Paul, in an effort to force them to reveal information, will-not-work. We have nothing of leverage to entice them to speak freely; it would only tip our hand and inform them that we know." Lord Malfoy's tone was resolute

"You are assuming that they are aware of what he hides."

"Don't be deliberately obtuse, Paul. We all thought it strange that Walker held the connections he did. This, at least, explains that much! Why else would someone like Gabriel Dalton bother with an unknown, mediocre muggleborn unless he knew for a fact that he wasn't?"

"Then what do you suggest?"

"You are going after the wrong people. Cartus, Cliffton and Dalton have no reason to betray his confidence. I already told you of the marriage contract he-"

"Yes, what about it?"

"The reason the girl has been betrothed in the first place is to keep all family's bankruptcy, debts, gambling all under wraps. It's a bailout. Now, if we approached Astrid Beaumont with the threat of exposing all that we know to the public-"

"I wouldn't advise it." Hadrian interrupted from his relaxed leaning position in the room's doorway, his voice conversational. "I was very careful to ensure that I brought no magical obligations on myself when I handed you that contract, Lady. If you were to do as you threatened, the magical backlash against you and all your House would be...unpleasant, to say the least."

Hadrian smirked darkly, his lips taking on a cruel edge.

"You really should have been more careful, Narcissa."

...

The old, wooden door flung open without warning, an icy breeze immediately sweeping into the small room, seeking out its prey with eagerness. The lone candle flame flickered as the intruder enveloped it with sinister purpose, effortlessly overwhelming the warm light; plunging the one windowed space into complete darkness.

A black clad figure shoved a person through the open doorway before stalking inside.

The unexpected, forceful movement caused the victim to stumble, evidently having been taken by surprise.

The attacker kicked the door shut with his booted foot, the echo loud in the small, stone room.

With an innate gracefulness, the victim steadied himself and rounded on his assailant, "What the hell! What are yo-?"

"Shut up!" His attacker hissed furiously.

A dangerous air seemed to lift from the victim, spreading slowly through the tiny space.

The attacker ignored the warning. With a violent wave of his wand, powerful wards flared into existence, the sheer strength of emotion behind the casting making the walls glow with colour before it faded.

The victim raised a curious, unconcerned brow at the impressive display, "Something bothering you?"

The attacker, again, ignored his victim's words, stalking forward rapidly so that the two were mere inches from the other.

"You slept with her. Didn't you?" He spat, an ugly expression on his face.

For the first time since being shoved so roughly inside, the victim showed something other than absolute confidence. Using his arm, he pushed past his assailant, creating more room between the pair.

"What are you talking about?" He snapped in annoyance.

The attacker breathed heavily, fury pouring from every pore.

"I'm talking about sixteen, almost seventeen, years ago. I'm talking about something I know has to be true, but I still can't seem to comprehend. I'm talking about Lily Potter...you _slept_ with her."

The victim's eyes flashed with surprise, a deep rage following swiftly.

The attacker, for all his anger and confidence, fell back a step in shock, "You did." He breathed, stunned by the mute confirmation. "I knew you had, but" He shook his head in disgust, "...you slept with her!"

A dark, unrelenting aura grew rapidly around the victim.

"How did you find out?" He demanded, the words low, harsh; yet clear.

"How did I...?!" The attacker's enraged yell abruptly cut off. Brown eyes grew wide with horrible realisation, "...You don't know." He whispered hoarsely. "You...You _really_ don't know, do you?"

The victim seemed to lose all patience, "Know what?" He growled dangerously, fists balled tightly at his sides. His hands shaking from the force he was subjecting them to.

The attacker seemed lost for words, staring at him mutely, his eyes horrified.

"_Know what?!_"

"...There was a child... Your son."

...

_Hey, Hadrian confronting the purebloods will come next chapter, don't worry. It simply wouldn't fit in this one. I already had almost half the chapter with dialogue between the Dark Lord and himself, the chapter just didn't work with another big section of dialogue. Does that make sense? Sorry to anyone dissapointed, but I really did feel that the it was much better broken up like this. _


	27. Conductor

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

Lady Fiona Greengrass closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, the distracted tension in the room giving her the much needed opportunity to steal a private moment in order to collect herself.

"...You are assuming that they are aware of what he hides." Lord Parkinson sniped obnoxiously.

"Don't be deliberately obtuse, Paul." Narcissa made a valiant effort to maintain her signature coolness but the speed of her reply betrayed her. "We all thought it strange that Walker held the connections he did. This, at least, explains that much!" Fiona rubbed her hands together as she sat there silently taking in her friend's words. "Why else would someone like Gabriel Dalton bother with an unknown, mediocre muggleborn unless he knew for a fact that he wasn't?" Lady Malfoy stated confidently.

Sighing, she leaned in, her beautiful tan features pinched with worry. "Then what do you suggest?"

Sky blue eyes met her hazel with a gleam of satisfaction and Fiona realised with annoyance that Narcissa was pleased that her words had been phrased in such an open way.

"You are going after the wrong people." The blonde woman stated her opinion as if it were fact. "Cartus, Cliffton and Dalton have no reason to betray his confidence. I already told you of the marriage contract he-"

"Yes, what about it?" Martin Nott snapped rudely.

Despite the interruption, the corners of Fiona's mouth twitched with appreciation when she saw Narcissa biting her lip to keep herself from glaring at the man.

"The reason the girl has been betrothed in the first place is to keep all family's bankruptcy, debts, gambling all under wraps." She explained slowly, her voice quiet and intense with the unspoken demand that they listen and understand exactly what she was saying. "It's a bailout."

She felt Roberto tense beside her, her husband undoubtedly coming to the same conclusion she had, that this information was their leverage, a priceless opportunity to be exploited ruthlessly.

"Now," Narcissa said, and Fiona leaned forward in excitement, finally feeling like they had some sort of handle on the chaos she'd been woken in the middle of the night for. "If we approached Astrid Beaumont with the threat of exposing all that we know to the public-"

"I wouldn't advise it." A dark, cultured voice from behind them interrupted smoothly.

The brunette's heart jumped in surprise and she spun around in her seat, her wand already half way into her hand when she finally set her eyes on the individual that was at the centre of this whole mess.

Dark purebloods are notoriously vain; the Black's famous for their beauty and power. When bloodlines have coveted attractiveness for so long stunning features are anything but unusual. Somewhat ironically, this has meant that rarely does someone stand out. Loveliness is both expected, and the norm.

Leaning with a lazy elegance against the room's open doorway was one of those rare few, and Fiona simply couldn't fathom how such beauty has hidden itself so effectively.

"I was very careful to ensure that I brought no magical obligations on myself when I handed you that contract, Lady. If you were to do as you threatened, the magical backlash against you and all your House would be...unpleasant, to say the least." The young man's lips pulled up into an amused smirk while quite possibly the most mesmerising coloured eyes she had ever seen darkened with a cruel distain. "You really should have been more careful, Narcissa."

The mocking words were delivered through such a disarming vehicle that it took Fiona a moment to work out their meaning but as soon as it registered she felt like groaning in frustration.

Shooting a glance at her old school friend she saw Narcissa staring intently at the carpet, internally castigating herself for her foolishness. If she was, Lady Greengrass felt no sympathy for her. She didn't care how weak and humble Hadrian Walker had appeared; Narcissa ought to have known never to gift such one-sided legal power to the other party in a verbal agreement.

"...Walker," Lucius stated crisply, giving his ward a single, silent nod of acknowledgement and rescuing his wife from the awkward attention of her peers. "How are you feeling?" He inquired with all the fake politeness that a privileged pureblood upbringing had instilled in him.

Hadrian chuckled, "There's no need to dance around the subject, Mr Malfoy. My magical stores are fighting fit. Though, I'd prefer not to have to prove that."

The room was practically vibrating with barely suppressed questions.

"Really?" Her husband drawled disbelievingly and Fiona couldn't help but agree with his wordless scepticism. "That would indeed be...remarkable."

A glance around the room proved that it wasn't just the Greengrass' that believed the Malfoy's ward to be exaggerating. It was understandable why the boy would wish for them to believe that he had access to plenty of magic, this type of situation could easily turn hostile.

"As I said, I'd prefer not to have to prove my claim." Emerald orbs caught hers for barely a second but it was enough. The confidence in that gaze was overwhelming. If the boy was lying, he was excellent at it.

From his relaxed leaning position against the room's doorway Walker surveyed the gathering of his housemate's parents with obvious amusement.

Fiona shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with the wound tension in the room.

"Well," He drawled, raising a brow, "I couldn't have planned this better if I'd tried. I was certain that nothing short of a declaration of open war would cause you all to gather together so...conveniently." He smirked and shrugged, "It just goes to show that one ought never to take things for granted, doesn't it?"

Words couldn't begin to describe the level of her irritation when she realised that nine fully grown, formidable magic-users were instinctively deferring to the only teenager in the vicinity. Like the orchestra bowing to the whims of its conductor.

She caught the angry scowl on Cassius Zabini from the corner of her eye, "Enough with the chit-chat, boy. We want some answers, real ones." He spat, fed-up. Apparently, she wasn't the only one goaded by a trainee wizard controlling the conversation. "You can start by telling us exactly who you are." Cassius demanded strongly.

She expected some show of chastisement, and if not that, at least for that unconcerned expression to fade. Instead, with a fluidity that was admirable, Walker pushed off the wall and strode into the room.

"Exactly who I am?" The raven-haired Malfoy ward scoffed, "I see that Blaise owes his way with words to you, Lord Zabini. You can stomp your foot and wish all you want, I have no intention of parting with any personal information in order to assuage a few roused curiousities."

"Don't be so arrogant boy."Katherine Zabini hissed venomously.

Walker chuckled as if the harsh rebuff amused him, "What you think of my manners doesn't really concern me, Lady."He dismissed the comment carelessly. "All that matters right now is getting what I want out of this social circle."

Fiona frowned deeply, completely confused. What did that mean? Yes, it was true that they didn't know who they were dealing with. Until they knew what Hadrian Walker wanted, what his capabilities were and why in Darkness' name he fabricated himself such an intricate mask of deception, the disadvantage was on their side. But even so, the boy must have realised that he was in a corner. He'd been exposed, they knew and he wasn't in a position to outrun his answers.

The head's of some of Britain's most powerful Dark pureblood families were present in the room and looking for answers.

There was no way to escape this.

"Hadrian," Fiona watched as Narcissa spread her hands wide in a friendly gesture. "If you were free with a few facts about yourself perhaps we will be willing to negotiate."

Hadrian smirked at her attempt, "You do not yet know what I want from you Lady." He pointed out with a small grin. "And I've never been particularly good at that."

She suppressed her huff of exasperation with effort. This was like pulling teeth!

"What? Being free with information about yourself? We know. That's why we're here." Vera Parkinson simpered, practically salivating at the thought of answers.

"Negotiating." Walker corrected, fixing her with a look that made her straighten her spine and wipe all expression from her face.

Fiona felt the first stirrings of unease in her gut. The boy was too calm, too in control. It was eerie. She had thought it was an act. After-all, it's what she would do: bluff. But this confidence was too extreme to be anything other than truth. The only question is if that confidence was justified.

Just _who_ had been living with her daughter for almost seven years?!

Digging her nails into her thighs, she could feel the sharp sting of pain through the thick material of her winter dress and the sensation helped her force down the stirrings of panic. She silently reminded herself that even if he was dangerous, dangerous in the kind of way her gut was warning her he was, he was still outnumbered.

"You have to meet us half-way, Walker. You want something, we want something. It'll be an exchange." Lucius coaxed with a close-lipped smile.

She knew before Lucius had even finished that Walker wouldn't fall for it. No one that well versed in deception is caught in so simple a web.

The darkly handsome young man let out a loud, genuine laugh, "Perhaps you should wait to learn what it is I want from each of you before you begin bargaining for information, Lord Malfoy."

Narcissa stood up abruptly, evidently having lost her patience, "Then by all means, Walker, enlighten us." She snapped angrily, "because I can tell you now, it won't make any difference. But if it means so much to you, if having your say and listing your demands to which you have nothing, at least that you've informed any of us of, to back them up with, then go right ahead, the stage is yours." She drawled mockingly.

Fiona hid her giggle behind her hand; Narcissa had, in typically splendid fashion, taken her frustration and moulded it into a cutting verbal insult. Brilliant. With eagerness, she turned to see Walker's reaction and her face fell. Unique viridian orbs were staring at his blonde guardian, unfazed.

"Very well, Lady." He inclined his head an old-world gesture that was all the more mocking for its innate elegance. "I understand that none of you know me," Hadrian smirked, picking up a small clock from a table as he mused on his thoughts. "If you did we'd be having a very different conversation." He set it down again and bent to inspect the fountain pen with the diamond tip. "Through a wish to punish me, the Dark Lord has made everyone here privy to a secret that they never would have been ordinarily."

The mention of the Dark Lord had Fiona grasping for her husband's hand. He squeezed the limb in silent reassurance but didn't take his eyes off the charismatic raven-haired figure.

"Now, this puts me in a difficult position. You see, when you all put out those 'feelers', searching for information about me, you've stirred up rumours." He spun the jade wheel with his index finger, watching the way the light bounced off the contraption. "Rumours that, if I don't want them getting back to Dumbledore and his lot before the end of the week, any further leakage of sensitive information from their source has to stop." Hadrian smirked at the group in explanation. "You're the leak."

The realisation of exactly what Walker wanted and his reasons had her back straightening in instinctive, unspoken rebellion. If the short glance of emerald was anything to go by the Malfoy ward had caught her involuntary reaction. And apparently, her teeth locked together in aggravation; her response was irrelevant to him.

"You can't stop this now, Mr Walker; the light will know your secret soon." Roberto, her husband, cautioned in a seemingly genuine warning, frowning, she squeezed his hand in order to convey her confusion, not understanding why he would offer counsel to the person who could very well be a threat to their daughter.

"I'm well aware," Walker nodded politely, "However, it's the difference between them knowing soon and knowing in a few months. I want those months." He stated; his tone dark.

Vera Parkinson snorted incredulously, "Great Salazar, Walker, you do think a lot of yourself." She snarled.

"When the measure is against the likes of you Lady, I do." He grinned charmingly, the actions so at odds with his harsh rebuke that Fiona needed a moment to orientate herself.

"Why on Earth would we do as you are asking?" She voiced the question all of them were thinking. "Your request is...almost absurd." She shook her head, frowning deeply at the curious, unconcerned emerald now fixed on her. "Your deceptions are worrying, the Dark Lord's involvement troublesome. When you combine that with the fact that an unknown entity, who might be a threat, has been living with our children for years...we won't be leaving without our answers, Mr Walker. I can promise you that." She threatened icily, her wand clenched tightly in her hand.

She wasn't a person that started a fight. She never had been. But her gut, her instincts were screaming at her that this young wizard was a threat. A threat to Daphne. Perhaps that's the reason she reached for her wand and ignored her husband's hiss to calm down.

Walker stared into her eyes for a long moment before simply turning his back and moving to the sidebar to pour himself a drink. "Put down your wand, Lady Greengrass," Hadrian cautioned softly as he poured himself a shot of Vodka. "The Dark Lord has already used up every ounce of patience I have for the day...I won't ask again." No one said anything about the fact that he was too young to drink, or that it was hardly midday as the unveiled wizard swallowed the alcohol with an ease that spoke of experience.

Fiona didn't know exactly why she lowered her wand, intellectually she knew that she was a gifted witch and he was still in training, that there were eight other people here who would come to her defence if needed and only one of him. Still, something in those softly spoken words told her that if she didn't follow his command she'd regret it. That however ridiculous the notion was, he could hurt her. Or it could have been Roberto forcibly pushing her wand arm down against her side.

Silence swept the room as Walker placed the empty shot glass back on the sidebar.

"Your children mean nothing to me," He waved his arm in exasperation, as if he'd come to the realisation that on this point they'd have to be placated. That no matter how much he threatened them it would only work if they believed their precious heirs were safe. "I want nothing from them." He stated clearly.

"What if we refuse?" Narcissa asked slowly.

With a finger he gestured to the room at large, "They, Lady, without going into what I'd do to ensure their silence, theoretically could choose to say no. You, however, have no such hypothetical power."

Lucius scowled, "What are you-?"

Hadrian raised a hand to silence him, clearly not interested in going through the motions just to prove that he could call their bluff. His focus at the moment wasn't the Malfoys.

"Do we have a deal?" He inquired with a genial air, his eyes eerily confident.

After a beat of silence in which Fiona desperately wanted to say no but didn't want to attract the attention of those unnerving eyes again, Cassius Zabini abruptly stood to leave. "You have said nothing that would induce me to do as you have asked." The pureblood Lord said with a certain glee, taking pleasure in exacting his revenge, as he saw it, on the upstart child. "If you will not tell us what we wish to know and the Dark Lord has indeed ordered that no harm come to you, then we shall just have to amass the information through our contacts."

Just as the wizard reached the fireplace, and the jar of floo powder on the mantle, Walker spoke words that had the man suddenly freeze and his face whiten. "Does that mean that you are happy for the reason behind your weakly jaunts to the South of France to become public knowledge, Mr Zabini?"

Fiona's eyes widened and it was only by consciously pressing her lips together that she managed to stifle her gasp of shock. Cassius's constant affairs were an open secret in society, everyone but his wife seemed to know, and she was standing right next to him.

"How do yo-?" Lord Zabini spluttered.

"And your connections with the Greek black market, Lady Zabini?" Walker asked innocently, the amused smirk on his lips highlighting the attractive hollows beneath his cheekbones.

The pureblood couple was now staring at the relaxed figure with horror and Fiona couldn't blame them.

"You see, I know all about each and every one of you. I know things you don't want your spouse to know, things your children wish to hide from you. I know information on your families that the ministry would be very interested in. I'm not talking about being Death Eaters, we all know the Dark Lord wouldn't allow me to hand you all in just to get my way. Though I do think the man would be tempted. I'm talking about your bank statements, Lord Parkinson, and your correspondence with Mr Silva, Lord Nott." He nodded to each, seeing the blood drain from their faces with satisfaction.

"Blackmail." Roberto Greengrass stated with a curl to his lips.

Hadrian sent him a dry took. "Don't act as if you're disgusted Lord Greengrass, your actions to procure that diamond mine in East Africa would suggest your stance on the method to be nothing but positive."

"How do you know these things?" Fiona breathed.

He laughed harshly, "I'm living in a dorm with your children, Lady. On the truly rare chance that I slipped and betrayed myself to them I wasn't going to rely on a good nature to hold their tongue."

"You have much more to lose than we do if you are willing to use this material just to buy yourself a few more months before the light is aware of you." Narcissa said through narrowed eyes.

Walker smirked at her but didn't say anything, his point had been made.

"Do we have a deal?" He deliberately repeated his words from earlier, his eyebrow cocked arrogantly.

Fiona looked into her husband's questioning eyes, saw the resignation those black orbs already possessed and nodded reluctantly. She watched her with defeat as the other purebloods exchanged glances between themselves before Martin Nott stepped forward, "it would seem that we have no choice." He spat bitterly.

Walker scoffed, "Nonsense. You're choosing to place your secrets above information about my history. If it helps, I doubt you would have found much of anything, but your questions would cause me problems that I don't want. So I ask again," Emerald eyes caught each of them in a piercing stare, "Do we have a deal?"

She inhaled a shaky breath.

"...Fine. You have a deal." Her husband nodded stiffly.

Hadrian grinned darkly, his white teeth flashing in a predator's smile.

Without warning, all seven individuals gasped, their magic tugging involuntarily as the deal was cemented in magic.

"W-What was that?!" Vera Parkinson exclaimed with a shrill scream of panic.

Fiona dragged air into her lungs as she clutched a tan hand to her chest, her horrified mind racing as she tried to place the familiar feeling. It had felt like...an oath...?

"Did you really think me so naive as to take you at your word? Your honour?" Walker smirked with a darkness that left her feeling as if they'd just made a deal with the devil.

"What did you do?! None of us gave you permission to involve a magical binding!" Cassius roared his eyes furious.

"Well, if you intended to keep your word I don't see what the problem is," Walker shrugged with deliberate misunderstanding, smiling with satisfaction. "Oh, and before I forget, you should know that the deal extends to your children, not your extended family, that would have required manipulation of an Unbreakable bond, but I'm fairly certain you haven't had the time to contact any cousins."

This boy, _this wizard_, was her daughter's age.

How was that possible?!

...

"How did you get your Mum to agree to let you go to Hogsmede unsupervised, Landon?" Hermione asked him, pulling her cupped hands away from her mouth in order speak clearly.

"It's Winter break, Mione, and we probably won't be getting many more opportunities like this to enjoy ourselves." The Potter heir said aloud, shooting a pointed look at their morose, red-headed friend in wordless explanation.

"You ought to come over to the Burrow some time, mate. I don't think there's ever been such a depressing Christmas...ever." Ron scowled down at the snow covered lane, scuffing his worn boots against the ground in frustration.

Hermione raised a gloved hand to rub Ron's back in sympathy, sharing a helpless stare with Landon as she did so.

He coughed uncomfortably, not sure what to say in the awkward silence. "Has there, um..." His words were tentative, searching for a sign that it was too soon for the subject to be broached. "Has there been any word...? About Bill?"

Ron just shook his head and pulled his coat closed tightly.

Landon looked at Hermione desperately; they were supposed to be taking their friend's mind off his grief not contributing to his depression!

"Look!" She shouted suddenly, flinging an arm out in front of them in explanation, "Julian's in! We should go say hi, don't you think?" She asked hopefully.

He grinned at her widely and nodded with enthusiastic agreement, "Yeah! We haven't seen him for ages. What do you think, Ron?" Good old Hermione, he could always count on her to come up with the solution.

The youngest Weasely boy actually perked up at the mention of their friend, his defeated expression brightening somewhat. "Yeah, we should." He smiled at them weakly.

"Great!" Landon exclaimed, thrilled to have improved Ron's mood, and led the way across the street.

"You don't think he spent Christmas alone do you?" Hermione asked with a suddenly guilty tone.

"No way," He shook his head confidently and raised his hand to knock on the shop's door, "He's got that guy he's so in love with, remember?" He grinned at them impishly, "I wouldn't even be surprised if the mystery man answered the door."

"You're terrible." She shook her head with a laugh.

"Julian!" Ron's happy greeting made Landon look back over his shoulder to the now open door and grin.

Julian was standing there looking as if he'd just climbed out of bed. His hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot and, as far as he could tell from two feet away, it'd been awhile since he'd showered too.

"Julian, how are you?" Hermione smiled warmly.

The werewolf raised his hand in front of his eyes to ward off the sun and squinted at them, clearly having trouble making them out. "What are you three doing here?" His voice was croaky and tired, surprise evident in his tone.

Landon sniggered sharing a humour filled look with Ron, this had been a great idea, he decided. "Sleeping off the holiday handover are you, mate?" He snorted. "I didn't even know you drank."

Julian rubbed is forehead, a sardonic half-smile curling up the right side of his mouth, "...Something like that," he mumbled to himself.

Landon shared a look with his friends when the man just stood there, seemingly lost in his thoughts. "Er...can we come in?" He asked slowly.

"Or is this a bad time?" Hermione interjected, sending Landon a disapproving glare that said not to be so rude. "We really should have sent an owl ahead of us...maybe we should come back later."

"...What?" Julian emerged from his thoughts with a frown of confusion before his too pale face transformed into a sheepish look, "Sorry, you three. I've just...I've had a lot on my mind. Please," He stretched out an arm in silent invitation, "Come in. I'd enjoy the company."

"Well, alright then," The Potter heir beamed. Slinging an arm around Ron's neck he pulled his friend through the familiar door and headed for the stairs, "I hope you've got that tea I like, Julian. That stuff you served us last time we were here almost killed me, didn't it Mione?" He called over his shoulder.

...

The sharp crack of apparation reverberated through the previously silent house as an expensive pair of black leather boots suddenly struck the dust caked floorboards with a clap.

A darkly handsome man glanced around at his decrepit surroundings with a sneer of displeasure.

Dirt and grime covered every available surface, priceless artefacts and historical treasures left to rot on their once proud pedestals. This house had been grand once, an object of envy. But time and lack of interested attention had ruined it.

Without any further acknowledgement, the man turned sharply on his heel and moved purposely down the long corridor. His steps were swift and his direction sure as he weaved quickly through the forgotten, tarnished rooms.

He halted outside a half open door, his expression tense with conflicting emotions.

A large hand came to rest against the yellowing white paint. Fingers spread evenly against the wood waiting for the instruction to push.

Dark eyes glared at the door with an intimidating intensity that all at once morphed and hardened into passionate resolve.

The door swung open and the man swept into the room.

His eyes needed no further instruction, instinctively locking onto one particular section of wall having followed the same path countless times as a child. He traced down the familiar branches easily, navigating the labyrinth of names with confidence as he hunted his goal.

He sucked in a sharp breath, the icy cold air stinging his lungs.

The tapestry had grown.

A strong, pitch black line connected his name to another. One he'd never seen there before.

_Hadrian Le'strange._

...

_Sorry that this update wasn't as fast as normal, assignments right up until exams kept me busy with hardly a moment to spare unfortunately. _

_What do you think? ;D _


	28. Something of Mine

Disclaimer: I do not own harry Potter

_Thank-you to everyone who reviewed. As always I really appreciate it and have replied to everyone now, so check your emails ;D I'm closing the poll on Hadrian's father just before I post this but will leave up the results to anyone that wants to check it out!_

_..._

Hadrian turned over the page of the book his eyes tracing down the uncovered information, flicking to the right side to do the same before once again turning the page and beginning the process anew.

"Mr Walker?" The squeaky voice of a nervous house-elf called hesitantly.

The young man gave a distracted hum of acknowledgement.

"The Master and Mistress wish to know if you shall be joining them and the young master for breakfast, sir."

Startling emerald eyes glanced up over the pages, "No." He stated clearly before his attention almost immediately returned to its earlier task.

Knobbly, wrinkled green hands wrung together anxiously, it was obvious that the creature's masters hadn't intended the words as a request but rather a politely worded summons.

"Is Mr Walker not hungry...?" The dismal attempt at coercion seemed to lightly annoy the rooms only other occupant and he spoke his next words sharply enough to make the elf flinch.

"Tell me something..."

"Mimsy." The house-elf jumped in helpfully.

"Mimsy, then." Hadrian nodded absently, his eyes still roaming the pages intently, "How long have you worked for the Malfoy family?"

Huge luminous orbs widened significantly at the personal question, "Fifteen years, sir." It squeaked proudly.

"And in your fifteen years here, have the Malfoys ever not eaten at precisely seven o'clock?" Another page turned.

The creature frowned in desperate confusion, "I-I don't remember, sir."

"Well, I think that is answer enough." Hadrian muttered under his breath before standing and approaching the bookcase to return the volume he had been searching through. "You must be one of the senior elves, Mimsy." Without waiting for an answer the raven haired man continued speaking. "If I wanted to look up the Malfoy family tree what would be the quickest way to go about it?"

The elf nodded excitedly, pleased to have the perfect answer, "The portraits, Mr Walker, sir." His ears flapped happily, "They are arranged in the observation corridor from the great founder Greccas Malfoy all the way down to the late Master Abraxas."

A thin smirk appeared on Hadrian's lips, "...An observation corridor...should've expected it, I suppose." He shook his head before turning to face the creature fully, "Thank-you, that's very helpful, though, perhaps seeing as how you seem to know so much about your Family's history you might be able to help me with something." He cocked an eyebrow at the suddenly serious elf.

"Whatever Mimsy can do to help, Mr Walker sir." The tiny creature nodded decisively.

Hadrian flashed a small grin, "The portrait that was hanging in my chambers when I first arrived, the one that was destroyed, do you know the name of the painting's subject?"

"Yes, yes! That was Mistress Wilhelmina Malfoy, she was Mistress here some three hundred years ago."

Nothing but slight interest passed through brilliant green orbs, "And her maiden name?" He asked innocently.

The little elf paused, his face falling when he couldn't recall the answer immediately. His green face scrunched up tightly, his fists hitting his temples in punishment as he tried madly to remember the elusive information.

Hadrian rolled his eyes, "Don't kill yourself over it." He reprimanded dryly stepping past the dejected little creature in order to leave the room.

"Le'strange!" Mimsy shouted triumphantly a wide grin almost seeming to split his face in two.

Hadrian tilted his head slightly to show he was listening, his body language betraying none of the keen interest he was feeling at that moment.

"Mistress Wilhelmina Malfoy was a Le'strange, Mr Walker sir, Mimsy is sure of it." He nodded once to show his seriousness.

"...Le'strange..." Hadrian murmured lowly, his eyes suspicious, clearly not meaning the little messenger to hear. Suddenly, bright viridian orbs glanced back at the silent elf. "I suppose your masters have ordered you to report everything about this brief encounter back to them?" He asked mildly.

Mimsy gulped thickly, his visage guilty and anxious at having been caught doing something so duplicitous to a wizard.

"Do the Malfoys ever do anything for themselves," Hadrian sighed in exasperation, peering thoughtfully at the fearful house-elf. "Well, no matter, it's easily dealt with."

Before the magical creature had time to react in anyway a bright blue spell hit it squarely in between the eyes.

Blinking slowly, Mimsy shook his head backwards and forwards as his thoughts slowly cleared. Where was he? With innocent eyes he glanced around the library with a small, bewildered frown unable to recall exactly what he had been doing.

The speed of the answer hit him with unexplainable conviction.

"Breakfast!" He grinned.

He had to ask Mr Walker if he was joining his Masters for breakfast, of course. With a simple click of his fingers the elf disappeared determined to locate the wayward Malfoy ward.

...

"Lucius..."

"No." He barked, shooting his wife an icy glare. "We will wait."

Narcissa arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him, "I was going to ask if you wouldn't mind passing me the newspaper," she said coolly.

He ignored her. "Where's Draco?"

"I doubt he got anymore rest than either of us did last night, so I told the house-elves not to wake him." She informed him quietly, her voice tight.

He hadn't thought of that. Lucius glanced at his wife and was once again amazed by her ability to appear unbothered in any situation. Her hair was lightly curled and combed elegantly back from her face, her makeup was light and fresh and if there was more of it than normal underneath her eyes it wasn't noticeable to him.

Lucius glanced up at the clock and his ire rekindled at the reminder that their ward was twenty minutes late. He would not be mocked in his own house! Roughly, he pushed back his chair determined to go fetch the ingrate himself and drag him here if he had to.

A soft hand on his forearm stopped him.

"No darling," Narcissa ordered gently. "Let him come to us."

He shot her an unreadable look, "It is our lack of action in regards to Hadrian Walker that has landed us in this mess, Narcissa. I refuse to sit here and cater to whatever childish game of cat and mouse he thinks he's in control of. This is my house; he will live and abide by my rules or so help him." He growled lowly his mercury orbs as hard as steel and just as cold.

Narcissa stared into her husband's eyes, speechless. She hadn't seen that look in years.

At the height of the war it sometimes seemed as though that look in his eyes was permanent. If there was one thing she was thankful for in the years since the Dark Lord's fall it was the dwindling frequency with which that look would emerge. Reserved, it seemed, for only the most dangerous times and threats to his family.

To see that look reflected back at her now...

Narcissa looked down.

Lucius sighed mentally, he didn't like having to speak so to Narcissa, she wasn't a woman easily cowered but she always felt the sting of his reprimands so keenly. For his wife's sake he sat back down, silently grasping her hand and bringing the back of it to his mouth where he brushed a soft kiss against the pale skin.

"I want my answers, Narcissa." He murmured softly.

Sky blue eyes met his and nodded slowly, "I will pay a visit to my old aunt if I must, Lucius."

He tightened his grip in warning, "Nadine isn't someone you demand information from."

She smirked slyly, "I'm family, Lucius. He might be her adopted son but I'm her own flesh and blood and Blacks do not forsake family."

Lucius frowned inwardly but didn't voice his doubts to his confident wife. Raven Nadine might have been born a Black but so had Narcissa and her loyalties had changed. She would always be loyal to the Blacks but not at the expense of the family she had created within the Malfoy lineage. Bellatrix, he had no doubt, was the same. She would put her husband, her family, before her sister and the rest of the Blacks.

"Morning."

He glanced up to see his tired son stagger through the open door towards his chair.

Draco paused, "You haven't started? But-" He looked back at the mantle where the clock stood. "It's almost seven thirty." He stated as if that said everything and truthfully, it did.

"Well as you can see your housemate has yet to grace us with his presence." He indicated with a curled lip and a wave of his hand to the empty seat Walker normally occupied.

His son's droopy eyes immediately widened and he quickly sat down and lent forward, his elbows resting on the linen white table cloth. "Have you seen him?" he whispered harshly.

"There's no need to lower your voice, Draco." Narcissa frowned, "This is your home and you can speak whatever you like in it."

"Yeah, but have you?" The teenager pressed with eager eyes. "By the time I got home last night you both said that Walker had disappeared into his room and you hadn't seen him, surely he's up by now."

"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Lucius drawled sharing a look with his wife.

"...Do you want me to get him?" Draco asked hesitantly.

"No," He snapped harshly. Seeing the confused anger in his son's eyes he forced himself to calm. "Draco, I don't want you near him." He raised a hand to forestall the indignation he could already see rising. "If yesterday showed me anything, it was that Walker knows what he's doing. It might be arrogance, I don't know, but until I do I don't want you to be alone with him, is that clear?" He stated strongly.

"But-"

"No buts Draco, your Father is right."

Lucius watched as his son looked between them, his eyes disbelieving and rebellious and felt his anger at Walker grow. But Draco hadn't seen the way the boy had so expertly blackmailed, threatened and manipulated his way around the experienced political dancers he knew those Lords and Ladies to be last night.

And there was no way he was letting his son be alone with a person capable of that.

...

Le'strange.

Hadrian tied the letters to the enormous owl's leg in silence, his mind a million miles away.

"Take these to Gabriel and Demetri, Hades." He murmured quietly. "Be quick, I need them delivered by nightfall." Watchful black eyes blinked in acknowledgement and, nipping his finger once, launched itself from the large open window and into the open sky.

"_You recognise this?" He demanded coldly._

_Surprise flashed through her eyes at his question._

"_Of course." She replied gently, as if aware of the emotions washing through him. "I have one just like it."_

_Hadrian's thoughts stilled, and he watched with shock as the familiar coal-black, curling symbol slowly emerged before his eyes._

He'd never been interested in learning who his parents were. Or rather, he'd felt as if wanting to know, expending effort to find out their identities would somehow give them power over him.

Whoever they were, he didn't care. Since the moment he'd been old enough to understand what being an orphan meant he'd told himself that over and over. Because his parents were either dead, in which case it really didn't matter, or they'd deliberately left him to rot in that hell-hole and he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of knowing that that had affected him. That he'd wondered as a child what he might have done to deserve it.

He could never bring himself to use the various magical methods to discover his parentage because on the chance that they weren't dead, if they'd really chosen to leave him there, he wasn't going to elevate the people responsible for his birth to that level of importance in his life.

Not knowing had been his way of getting back at them.

As irrational as it was, that's how he felt.

"_Good Luck, young man." The brunette portrait smiled strangely, but her tone was genuine._

_Hadrian raised an eyebrow. "I would think that you would have more loyalty to your family, Lady." He drawled slowly; indifferent. Her dishonour in part amused and irritated him. He valued loyalty and to see it thrown away so callously..._

_A small, dark smirk spread across her attractive features. "I am loyal to the Malfoy family; however, I will always be more faithful to the family of my birth over the one of my marriage."_

But he hadn't thought...Hadrian glanced down at the back of his hand, the clear skin fading slowly from view as he willed the curling black symbol to appear.

This mystery had haunted him. He couldn't begin to describe how much he wanted to know what it was. Why he had it, why he felt an instinct to keep it secret so strong he never even told his Mother.

He clenched his hand into a fist, the tendons in his forearm bulging under the pressure.

The mere idea that to get his answers, to solve a puzzle he so desperately wanted to solve, he had to give in and do something he told himself he would never do infuriated him to the point of madness.

"_Hadrian! Hurry!" She hissed urgently. "They can not find out about the mark!"_

_He desperately wished to demand why, but, with a will and discipline forged through years of formidable restraint, Hadrian spun around and jabbed his wand forward violently._

_He watched, his face blank, as the large canvas and frame landed on top of the logs and instantly began to smoke. A profound sense of loss occurred to him. It was a wasted opportunity. He had forced his burning curiousity to stay buried for so long but, if anything, it had only increased over time._

_Footsteps clapped loudly on the wooden floors outside, but his eyes wouldn't leave the painting; the identical mark that was tattooed across the lady's vulnerable neck._

He couldn't not know.

Even if it meant doing this.

He had to know what it meant.

Picking up his wand he stalked towards the door shutting it softly behind him. He wanted to know now and he wasn't willing to wait.

He made his way to one of the smaller rooms with floo access quickly. Only the fireplaces on the ground level of the Manor had floo access and Hadrian appreciated the intelligence of such a strategy even though he was convinced that the current Lord and Lady Malfoy weren't the ones to have come up with the neat, clever defence.

_A wide smile spread across her face unexpectedly. Her obvious good humour did nothing but stir his overflowing resentment in that moment. "It's the family, young man. __**Our family**__."_

Wilhelmina Le'strange.

Was is possible that he had actually met is biological parents? Talked with them? Seen the evidence of their lives going on as if he'd never been?

He had to know.

Just as he was sinking his hand into the powder on the mantelpiece, a sharp intake of breath from behind him halted his actions and his eyes immediately snapped up to look into the mirror directly in front of him.

Draco Malfoy was staring at his back, open mouthed. Mercury orbs seemed caught between shock and awe as they traced over his unmasked face in the mirror's reflection.

A slow smirk spread across his lips and his green eyes danced with humour. "I never thought I'd say the words, but you Malfoy," Hadrian chuckled lowly as he turned to face his housemate with a pleased air, "You, have perfect timing."

...

He'd been aimlessly wondering the halls for a while now, ever since he'd finished breakfast and excused himself from the tense atmosphere that completely enveloped his parents.

His housemate's had surprised him yesterday. He'd expected desperate confusion and shock all tied neatly together with fearful notions of what this might mean. Instead, he'd arrived at the Greengrass manor only to be pulled into a three hour conversation on how unfair it was that they'd been sent away, how humiliating it was that Walker had managed to one-up them, and the odd fearful question of why and how the Dark Lord had been involved.

He'd tried to get them to understand, Daphne and Theo had been the most responsive to what he was saying, but Pansy and Blaise wouldn't hear a word of it. Blaise was too furious that the mudblood, Hadrian Walker, wimp extraordinaire, had probably been laughing at them this whole time.

And Draco suddenly got a sense of how frustrated his friends must have been with him only a week ago in Diagon Alley.

They were letting their emotions instead of their reason rule them.

And while Draco didn't know what to think about Walker and all he'd been hiding he did know that that type of deception was only done for a damn good reason.

So he had done as his Mother had asked. Watched and evaluated his housemate's reactions; gathered titbits' of information on their families that they naively let slip and reported the significant facts back to his parents. The surprising thing was, he didn't feel guilty.

He felt no guilt for informing his family that Lord Nott was furious that he hadn't known of this potential threat and was taking his resentment out on his son. Neither did he feel guilt for piecing together Blaise's seemingly insignificant remarks to conclude that his parents were worried when they heard of their son's less than positive relationship with Walker.

He frowned up at the ceiling in thought. Why wasn't he angry at the deception? The act? On the one hand, he simply didn't know enough about the situation to understand what he should be mad about.

Walker was a stranger to him, that more than anything else had become all too clear.

And honestly...when he looked past the fear of what this could mean the repercussions for his family, the terrifying notion of exactly what type of person Hadrian had to be to garner such interest from the Dark Lord...he was curious.

Desperately curious about the person he owes his life to.

And yet, his parents forbid him to interact with Walker.

He thumped his head against the wall angrily.

Why did they insist on treating him like a five year old?! He was one of the very best students at Hogwarts; Slytherin House was basically his playground, he was the best dueller in his year... What more did they want?!

He sighed angrily letting his head fall back against the white plaster behind him.

Glaring up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts, the squeak of shoe against polished marble surprised him and he jumped.

Draco jerked upright and looked down the corridor searchingly. His heart beat just that little bit faster when he caught what looked like a black shadow move swiftly into a room that he knew was hardly ever used by the family.

Biting his lip hesitantly, he glanced behind him, the attack on the manor only days ago fresh in his mind.

He really should call his parents. It was, after-all, the responsible thing to do. Mercury eyes flickered back towards the room he'd seen the shadow disappear into. His Father's words from earlier still smarted and Draco just couldn't bring himself to go 'running to the adults' as it were.

He crept forward.

As a precaution he slowly drew his wand from the right pocket of his loose black robe as he curved around the corner and slowly entered the still open door.

A gasp of pure, unadulterated shock escaped him.

His jaw dropped and his wand, which had been up in a ready position moments before dropped limply to his side, forgotten.

Standing with his back to the door, his face reflected back in the pristine mirror opposite him was a young man of dark, inherent beauty.

He recognised the thick black hair from that night. At the time, the change in colouring in his housemate had seemed stark. Laying eyes on the reality of what had lain so well hidden only a Dark Lord was able to uncover the deception, he couldn't imagine that this was the person he had belittled and scorned his whole school career.

Even if Walker was that idiotic, brown-nosing weasel, Draco wouldn't have dreamed of treating someone that looked like that the way he had.

A half smirk slowly curled up the left corner of Walker's mouth as he leisurely turned round so they were face to face him. "I never thought I'd say the words, but you Malfoy," A soft, spine tingling chuckle left his lips. "You, have perfect timing."

"Hadrian?" He breathed in question, not even hearing the words Walker had spoken in his state of shock.

The most captivating, viridian orbs locked on his and he sucked in a breath. They were beautiful, swirling flames dancing around black pupils. He let his own suddenly mediocre eyes trace each feature slowly, noting the seeming perfection of each plain, limb and overall architecture in mounting shock.

"You really look like this?" He couldn't help the dubious edge to his voice, even as his eyes continued to drink in the darkly handsome visage.

Walker, the same Walker he couldn't stand to be in the same room as for the better part of seven years, suddenly fixed him with a stare that made him feel about three inches tall.

"Your deductive skills never fail to amaze me, Draco." A silken, deep tenor voice drawled, making his eyes widen to an impossible degree.

He should have realised he would speak differently. Everything else was different! But that voice nailed the fact that he knew nothing about this person home more effectively than his changed face had.

That voice was cultured, dark, confident, sensual and powerful.

All things that the Hadrian Walker he knew wasn't capable of being. Let alone with the casual effortlessness that this stranger appeared to.

Walker moved forward with a graceful step, striding past him with a fluidity that Draco instinctively recognised as one that couldn't be learned.

He looked at his housemate with dismay. It was innate.

Walker closed the door to the room, locking them in.

...

Hadrian surveyed the blonde speculatively for a long moment as he thought. This would actually work to his advantage if he played it just right.

Without a word to the stupefied looking pureblood Hadrian walked back towards the fireplace and threw a handful of floo-powder into the flames.

"W-what are you doing? You can't just leave without telling anyone!"

Hadrian craned his neck around to look at the flustered boy and cocked a bored eyebrow, "Do you always do everything you're told, Malfoy?"

He hid his smirk of amusement easily when the boy flushed hotly. A blind person would have been able to see that Draco Malfoy felt insecure and embarrassed over his parent's over-protective tendencies. For someone like Hadrian who was used to juggling far more difficult egos, manipulating his housemate was all too easy.

"You coming?" Hadrian dared.

He had no intention of leaving the Malfoy heir behind but this would go so much smoother if the boy thought it was his own idea to come.

The blonde looked back at the closed door with indecision, wringing his hands together as he looked between the green flames and Walker's watchful eyes. The burning curiousity and rebellion suddenly strengthened in mercury orbs and Hadrian knew he'd won.

"Where are we going?" Draco asked hesitantly, stepping up beside Hadrian with eyes that couldn't seem to stop running over his face and body with incredulity.

Suddenly, a dark grin spread across Hadrian's lips and without warning he grabbed Malfoy's elbow in a tight grip and yanked them both into the flames, "Hallow-fed Alley," He spoke the destination clearly and the world started to spin.

Not even a full second after the flames had engulfed them and they were on their way did Hadrian let go of his travelling companion's arm, pushing him away with a barely visible grimace.

Glimpsing the familiar exit, Hadrian extended a hand and roughly shoved the blonde forward before stepping from the grate with an easy elegance.

He'd always appreciated the main shopping strand of Berlin. Unlike England's Leaky Cauldron which was covered in dust and cobwebs, this establishment was far more to his tastes. Letting his emerald eyes glide swiftly over the upscale, oddly masculine tea room Hadrian ignored the wheezing, soot covered heir at his feet.

"Why'd you push me?!" The words might have been unintelligible garble but the angrily indignant tone was hard to miss.

The young strawberry blonde woman behind the old fashioned, polished counter glared at the pair with a disapproving look and he realised with impatience that Malfoy's dramatics were beginning to attract less than positive attention.

Hadrian shot the annoyed woman behind the bar a charming grin that had her murky blue eyes softening noticeably and a soft blush staining her cheeks.

Without a word he grasped the back of Malfoy's robes and hauled him roughly to his feet ignoring the groan of protest.

"My apologies, Madame, my friend is always so terribly clumsy but he means no harm," Hadrian apologised in fluent German, tightening the grip on Malfoy to where it was surely painful in clear warning when the blonde's eyes widened and he glanced at him with an open mouth.

Not waiting for a reply from the now charmed bar-maid Hadrian pushed Draco through the door adjacent to them and closed it loudly behind them.

Shoving the blonde away from him, he slashed his wand at the door, erecting silencing and privacy wards around the room before spinning back around with frustration blazing from his eyes.

A wand met him.

A soot-covered Draco Malfoy was standing with his feet apart and his wand raised in a ready position a stubbornly brave look on his face, ready to duel.

Hadrian laughed.

The sight was absolutely comical, and it felt liberating not to have to smother his humour.

Shaking his head and exhaling, he spoke. "...Put down your wand before you hurt yourself, Malfoy."

Anger, which had been building since Hadrian's unexpected reaction, immediately flashed hot at the patronising warning.

"I'm the best dueller in Hogwarts, Walker, don't be so arrogant." The pureblood spat.

"Really?" Hadrian drawled mockingly.

Before the blonde had time to think, Hadrian rolled his eyes and swiped his foot out knocking boy to the floor. The pureblood heir landed on the ground painfully, winded.

Seeing that his red-faced classmate was going to need a moment in order to scramble to his feet Hadrian took the opportunity to check the time. Frowning with impatience he looked at his feet to see Malfoy frantically searching the floor with his eyes.

"Looking for this?" Raising an arm he let the wand he'd deftly plucked from Malfoy before he fell dangle teasingly in the air between them.

Knowing that he had seconds before the pureblood opened his mouth and said something that would doubtlessly annoy him, Hadrian silently extended the captured wand forward, handle first.

"You're just going to hand it over? Just like that?" Malfoy's eyes were narrowed suspiciously and looking at his wand like it was going to blow up in his face at any moment.

Emerald eyes rolled, "I've known you since you were eleven Malfoy, trust me, you're no threat to me."

...

Draco's eyes snapped up to glare poisonously into infuriatingly bored emerald.

The blonde reached out and gingerly took back his wand feeling comforted by its familiar weight.

All at once, the small amusement lingering in Walker's eyes bled away and, quick as lightning, a hand wrapped tightly around Draco's elbow and jerked it up and behind his back in a painful lock.

Warm breath ghosted past his ear, "Don't ever raise your wand at me again Malfoy, not unless you're prepared to use it, understood?"

Draco swallowed hard and went to nod but Walker didn't bother waiting for an answer and just pushed him away.

Stumbling, he used the wall to steady him. "Why did you even want me to come?" He spat out bitterly. Because it had become clear to him that this person standing before him was used to doing things on his own.

Walker crossed his arms, his manner relaxed and calm. "No matter what I might think of the Malfoy family it is, nevertheless, a fact that dropping your name gets results."

A small thread of alarm shot through him at that answer. "What do you want from me?" He breathed.

"I want a meeting with the goblin floor supervisor of Berlin's Gringotts branch." The raven haired wizard shrugged casually as if the request was simple.

He stared at his classmate disbelievingly, "Oh, is that all?!" He flung his arms out dramatically. "And let me guess...you want this meeting now, right?! There's no way."

Walker titled his head to the left, "Are you really that lost when it comes to the world of politics, Malfoy? I wonder sometimes whether your ignorance is in fact deliberate or merely accidental." He seemed to muse out loud before he waved a hand at the blonde dismissively, losing interest in the subject. "Either way, it doesn't matter."

Draco flushed deeply and had to look away from those judging emerald orbs. He'd never been embarrassed so many times in so short a space of time before, but it wasn't entirely his fault. An almost tangible aura of distaste and impatience seemed to surround the darkly attractive Walker and it was throwing him off. He'd never felt so insignificant, his company so unwanted before.

"Just do exactly what I tell you to do Malfoy, and we won't have a problem," Walker ordered with piercing green eyes.

Walker didn't hate him, loathe him, find in interesting...those things he had expected. Not this.

To Hadrian Walker he was nothing more than a nuisance.

And he hated it.

"I'm not doing anything for you!" Draco spat angrily, furious that Hadrian Walker, _Hadrian Walker, _had the audacity to give him orders, to speak to him as if he were a child. "Whatever, I don't care. I'm going home, you can do whatever stupid country hopping expedition you want, but I'm leaving."

Hadrian watched without a word as the blonde tried to unlock the door with numerous spells, his frustration clearly growing with the realisation that he'd have to ask the former moron Hadrian Walker for help with magic.

"What the hell did you cast?!" He exclaimed loudly, not quite able to keep his shock at the amount of power he was sensing behind those spells out of his voice.

"Are you finished?" Walker deadpanned with a significant look at the still closed door.

"Let me out!"

"My rules are simple. Don't make a racket, do what I tell you to do and, most importantly, don't get in my way." Walker stared at him expectantly, his protests seeming to fall on deaf ears and Draco could only stare at him with wide eyes.

"I'm not doing anything you say, Walker! Let me out!" He yelled.

Hadrian stared at him for a long moment his emerald eyes growing darker as his impatience spiked.

"You either do what I ask by your own choice Malfoy, or I make you. I'm very used to getting what I want," His voice was sharp; impatient. "And honestly, you're beginning to test my patience." He stated darkly.

Draco swallowed thickly at the look in those emerald eyes. Up till now Walker hadn't really threatened him. He supposed, no matter how much the thought rankled, that his classmate didn't believe he needed to expend the effort with him. But for the first time he realised that whoever Walker was...he was hard.

Without permission his mind flashed back to the summer when he'd seen Walker cast a killing curse at a man that had clearly been tortured and he was finally able to mentally connect that action with the person.

The Hadrian Walker he knew, the one he was used to wouldn't have been capable of such a thing.

Not this person. The young man standing in front of him, the one with deadly serious eyes that held no bluff and no compassion, this one was capable of those actions.

_I'm very used to getting what I want._

"Fine...I'll do it." He whispered hoarsely, shaken by the honest darkness in those orbs.

...

"See? That wasn't so hard now was it?"

Draco gritted his teeth at the patronising congratulations and spun to face his companion, a demand on his lips, only to see Walker's disappearing figure striding out the post office doors.

Discarding his half-formed plan of running to the nearest fireplace and making a quick exit, he slipped the Malfoy ring back onto his finger from where it had been resting next to the now cooling wax, and hurried to catch up.

When Walker had first told him what he wanted from him Draco had been certain that he'd have to walk into the bank and request the meeting in person. Apparently, he scowled darkly at the cobblestone beneath his feet; sealing a letter addressed to the bank with a wax seal of the Malfoy family crest was enough.

Words couldn't begin to express his level of humiliation when Walker, a muggleborn, had had to explain to _him_, a pureblood heir, one of the many uses of the family ring he had been told never to take off.

He'd had no idea that every time he'd sealed his letters to go home with the ring, just like his father, that he was actually leaving behind a magical signature that would allow the recipient to establish if it was really he who had sent it and whether or not it had been opened since Draco had sealed it shut.

Pushing his way through the crowd to get to Walker's side, he finally fell into step beside his classmate, just managing to catch himself before he shot him a dirty look.

He'd learnt quickly that this Hadrian Walker, the real Hadrian Walker, didn't understand the meaning of tolerance.

The Alley was filled with shoppers clogging the pathways, yet, Draco realised with reluctant admiration that Hadrian never once bumped into anyone. Annoyed by the fact, he concentrated on Walker with the goal of emulating whatever he was doing and was shocked to realise that most of the crowd was simply moving out of his way.

"Why are they moving for you?" He asked Hadrian with confusion.

Shocking green orbs flashed towards him before just as quickly he was dismissed without a word as they continued to make their way towards their destination.

His eyes narrowed at the pristine figure beside him and this time he asked the question more loudly, determined not to be ignored, "Why is everyone moving out of your way?!"

This time, Walker graced him with a full look and not just a glance and despite the fact that green eyes were filled with irritation Draco couldn't help but feel triumphant.

Reading Malfoy's pleased look for what it was; Walker shook his head, a small sardonic smile on his lips. "Look at you, Malfoy." He scoffed, "Pleased with yourself for having annoyed me enough to finally gain some of my attention. You remind me of a five year old."

The mocking insult was made all the more unbearable for its truthfulness and Draco's fists clenched tightly at his sides when an unwelcome thought passed through his mind; had Walker always thought as lowly of him as he had shown today? When he and his friends would jeer at him and sneer at his failures had he actually been silently doing the same to them?

"Why are they moving out of your way?" He asked with a carefully relaxed tone.

Walker's lips twitched at his attempt to appear nonchalant before his brow wrinkled in annoyed confusion, "What are you talking about, Malfoy?" He snapped.

Draco was so shocked by the honest lack of understanding in those eyes that he actually stopped.

"Hey!"

"Watch where you're going!"

"Would you mind!"

Immediate and loud exclamations from the angry shoppers around him had him flushing deeply and ducking his head as he jogged to catch up with his companion. The one that hadn't even bothered to slow or wait for him, he grumbled internally.

Still, he realised with some bemusement that Walker either didn't know of the effect his presence had on the people surrounding them, or he was so used to it that it was too normal a behaviour for him to take any notice of anymore.

For whatever reason, his gut was telling him it was the second one.

He snuck a quick glance up at Walker's turned face before quickly making himself look away, the last thing he wanted was to be caught staring...again.

"Why do you want the meeting at Gringotts?" Draco asked what he thought was a safe question. After-all he was going to find out when they got in there anyway, he mused internally, watching with interest as Hadrian weaved his way around those individuals too clumsy to avoid with enviable skill.

"What makes you think I would tell you that?"

He frowned, confused, "I know you wouldn't let me read the letter but when we go in there I'm going to hear anyway so why-"

"_I'm _going to Gringotts, _you're _going to wait outside in precisely the same spot I leave you and watch for any familiar faces." Walker informed with a pointed tone.

They'd come to a stop beside a tree that was at the centre of a large courtyard outside the aforementioned bank branch.

Draco clenched his hands and glared at his disinterested companion icily. "If you think I'm just going to wait out here-!"

Walker scoffed. "You haven't got a choice." He wasn't even looking at him! As if his demand was no more than an irritation.

Draco searched his mind for anything that could help him before Walker left as he was already turning to do.

He refused to be forced into arranging this meeting and then not even get the satisfaction of knowing what it was all about!

"What are you going to do when they realise that you're not a Malfoy!" He muttered harshly under his breath. The look that Walker had thrown over his shoulder when he'd shouted the first word more than enough to let him know that he didn't want cause a scene.

"Why don't you let me worry about that?" Hadrian smirked and Draco hated the fact that the arrogant expression did nothing to mar those features.

Annoyed, and wanting to gain some ground back, he asked the question he'd been thinking since Walker had disclosed their destination.

"Why didn't you just go to Diagon Alley? Surely, someone would have helped you there and you wouldn't have to worry about me telling anyone about this obviously secret mission." His voice held a deliberately superior edge coated with sarcasm as he delivered his threat.

The black haired Slytherin tilted his head to the side and regarded Draco with a bored, unimpressed frown. "You really must learn to think before you speak, Malfoy. If you keep leaving everyone you meet with the impression that you're an idiot one day there won't be anyone for you to convince otherwise."

Draco could feel his jaw dropping with the level of his shock. This coming from the student that hadn't been able to get out a come-back to save his life!

"Stay here." Walker ordered sharply before turning on his heel to leave when he abruptly stopped.

Curving his neck just enough so that Draco could see the way his lips pulled into a slow, wide grin of genuine amusement and his viridian orbs were laughing at him, he spoke. "...Blackmail? From _you_? _Really_?" Hadrian raised a disbelieving brow that somehow made Draco feel about an inch tall and utterly ridiculous before sweeping up the steps of the bank and disappearing inside.

Staring blankly at bank's entrance he tried to wrap his head around Hadrian's words. He made him sound so foolish, so childish.

The Malfoy heir scowled darkly and pivoted until he was leaning back against the tree. He didn't care who Hadrian Walker was, no one spoke to him like that and got a free pass.

The talks at Moscow this summer had demonstrated in vivid detail that he wasn't where he should be by now. The war had changed a lot of things for Britain not the least of which was a change to an isolationist policy. He and his peers simply hadn't had the exposure that their parents had, the experiences that pushed them to grow.

He'd acknowledged that though. He knew he had to do better but that didn't mean he was less than the mud beneath Walker's boots.

Mercury eyes suddenly widened and then slid shut as a groan escaped him. Of course he didn't go to Diagon Alley; the goblins wouldn't have allowed such an elaborate disguise to even pass through their doors.

If Hadrian Walker wanted to enter a Gringott's bank, he had to do it as himself.

...

Hadrian stared down at the single sheet of parchment laying on the goblin's desk in absolute silence.

_Mother: Lily Potter née Evans_

_Father: Rudolphus Le'strange_

"...This is confidential information, isn't it?" He demanded in a tightly controlled voice.

"Of the highest priority." The senior goblin nodded solemnly.

Hadrian wanted to nod, to in some way acknowledge the answer but his body seemed to have a will of its own right now.

Why couldn't he seem to stop his eyes from retracing those two names over and over and over again?! It's not as if they were about to miraculously change and become something else! _**So Why?!**_

The creature on the other side of the desk coughed uncomfortably in the silence, "Would you like me to contact someone for you?" He was actually starting to feel sorry for the child!

Beady black eyes glanced curiously at the parchment that held the young man so transfixed. The human was standing above the table looking down at his test results with a hand framing each side of the rectangular paper. What could be so bad on that parchment to put such a look in the child's eyes?

"No," Hadrian murmured softly.

Without taking his eyes off the sheet of parchment Hadrian slowly straightened up and reached out with his left hand to grasp the outermost corner of the page.

Without warning or audible spell the parchment began to smoke.

The goblin stood up abruptly, "Stop!" The heavy desk shook with the force of his large belly hitting against the wooden rim in his haste to intervene. "There is no magic allowed in Gringotts! Stop! You can't just-that is an official document-Stop burning it!" A clawed hand reached for the sheet only to jerk back when it suddenly went up in flames.

In seconds all that remained of the parchment was ash.

"Owl me the fine" Was all Hadrian said as he yanked open the office door and swept through it.

...

"Was I right?"

Rudolphos scowled darkly out at the half frozen lake in front of him.

"...Yes," He growled lowly.

His arms were crossed tightly against his broad chest. The muscles in his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth were aching and sharp lancing pains shot down his neck in protest. He ground them together even harder.

"What are you going to do?"

Rudolphus couldn't help it, he laughed. A loud, single bark of harsh expression that was so coated in hopeless bitterness even the war hardened wizard standing beside him on the lake's bank couldn't help but wince in sympathy.

Mulberry eyes glared blackly at his cautious looking brother, ire flaring to life within him with alarming swiftness for one who was so renowned for always keeping his cool. "Don't look at me like that!" He snarled, "Don't you dare look at me like I'm about to break!"

His booted feet were planted firmly against the wet pebbled ground and yet he'd never felt so unbalanced in his life.

Not knowing what else to do Rudolphus abruptly turned his back on his brother and just let his head drop back so that he could stare up at the clear blue sky above them.

The pair stood together in silence, frosty swells of wind teasing their locks as the younger prepared to wait as look as it took until his normally in control brother was ready to talk. Alone out on the Dark Lord's vast grounds, not another sole in sight, the weather ensured them absolute privacy.

"What am I going to tell Bella?" Rudolphus spoke his thoughts out loud, the unbelievable tension that had his body wound like a coil having eased somewhat.

He heard his brother sigh from beside him, "I don't know." Rabastan admitted before turning to look directly at his profile, "But that's a problem that can be put off...for now at least."

He nodded mutely a deep frown on his forehead, "Do you think he knows?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"He lived in an orphanage until he was adopted-"

"-By Raven Nadine, brother. I think now, at least, we have our answer as to why a witch of her pedigree would adopt a mudblood."

Before he even knew what he was doing Rudolphus had turned sharply on his heel, the small stones beneath his boot rolling down the embankment and a protective anger he'd never felt the like of before sparked inside of him.

"Don't you _ever _call him that again," He growled furiously, his fists clenching together with enough force to turn his knuckles completely white.

The Le'strange Lord stepped towards his wide-eyed brother and spoke his next words with uncompromising control.

"He is _my son, _Rabastan. He might be hers as well but he has Le'strange blood running through his veins, _my _blood."

Rabastan raised his hands in the universal sign for surrender, a small grin on his lips, "Alright, alright..." Rudolphus nodded curtly. "Got those fatherly protective instincts down pat, haven't you?" The teasing did nothing to improve his mood.

Mulberry eyes closed and he breathed deeply, "...He's my son, my heir." He whispered, the words sounded so foreign on his tongue but he knew they were the truth.

"Rudolphus," The hesitant tone from his brother had his shoulders tensing, knowing what was coming, "...Lily Potter? How?"

Memories flooded his mind of past mistakes, secrets, dark emotions and a time he hated to remember. Shaking his head he looked at his brother who was staring back at him with eyes that didn't bother hiding their confusion.

Rudolphus sighed harshly before raising his hands to scrub at his face. "Now is not the time Rabastan-"

"No!"

He glared at his brother with a glacial look, "Don't you think I have enough to deal with without having to relive-"

With a hiss of pain he clutched at his forearm where the Dark Mark burned painfully with its master's summons.

Rabastan gritted his teeth in anger but didn't say anything more, even for something as important and life changing as this; you didn't keep the Dark Lord waiting.

Rudolphus couldn't help feeling relieved at the timing and turned back towards the Manor. He had only taken three steps when his brother's carefully controlled voice stopped him.

"You never asked me how I knew brother; how I knew that he was yours?"

Black eyes locked on his guarded ones with a serious look, "He has the mark. He was so magically exhausted that he couldn't even keep it hidden."

Alarm made his eyes widen and Rudolphus stepped back towards his brother, the burning on his arm, in an unprecedented move, going ignored.

"What?" He breathed in shock.

"It's darker than anyone's I've ever seen." There was a glint of excitement in his brother's eyes, but with his apprehension mounting as rapidly as it was his mind wasn't able to comprehend why that was even important. Apparently, Rabastan saw his growing fear and raised his hand as if to ward off the emotions. "I hid it before anyone saw, don't worry."

He exhaled in obvious relief, running a hand through his hair as his heart, which had sped up significantly, slowly calmed. "Thank Darkness for small mercies." Rudolphus murmured under his breath, his brother snorting in agreement.

He realised with self disgust that he should have expected something like this, but his thoughts hadn't been his own recently. Annoyed with himself it took a moment for the full meaning of his brother's words to sink in.

Mulberry eyes widened and suddenly flashed up to lock with black, "Was it really that dark?" His whispered hoarsely.

Rabastan smirked, "Pitch black."

Searing heat from the ignored mark had Rudolphus breaking gazes with his brother and spinning on his heel. No goodbyes necessary between the familiar pair.

As he walked briskly across the frost covered grass Rudolphus slowly rolled up the sleave of his robe and looked down at the clear skin on the inside of his elbow.

Without any perceivable sign or direction sections of the unblemished pink skin began to darken until a shape he was all too familiar with slowly revealed itself to the open air.

Rudolphus traced the curling lines and graceful arches of deep grey with a private smirk.

His son...a grin of such fierce, intense pride was hidden skilfully in the shadows of his bowed head but nothing could have masked the emotion that sparkled within mulberry eyes as the Le'strange Lord watched the mark slowly fade from his skin as if it had never been.

He rolled his sleeve back down and quickened his pace.

Hadrian might never have been planned; his existence might bring life as he knew it to its knees, destroy bonds that had survived crisis after crisis. Having a son, an heir by the mudblood mother of his Lord's demise, the first non pureblood Le'strange, it would undoubtedly obliterate his world...that was all true.

But underneath it all, underneath the dread, horror, anger and shock he was feeling, was a sense of ownership.

This was _his _son. _His _heir.

Hadrian was his.

Striding into the Dark Lord's study he folded his body into an elegant bow before swiftly straightening. "I apologise for my delay, my Lord, it won't happen again."

The figure standing at the mantel piece inspected him with an unreadable look. "As this is the first time you have ever kept me waiting Rudolphus, I suppose you can be forgiven."

"Thank-you, my Lord." He nodded once, understanding the unsaid warning not to make this a common occurrence.

"Very well," The Dark Lord swirled the amber liquid in his hand in slow, lazy circles; crimson eyes watchful as they surveyed him. "I need you to retrieve something of mine."

Rudolphus frowned lightly when no other information was immediately forthcoming, "Of course, my Lord." He tried to prompt.

Lord Voldemort brought the deep glass to within an inch of his lips, the words spilling over the rim. "Well, some_one_ rather than something, but mine nonetheless." He tipped the glass and took a leisurely swallow. "Hadrian Walker has seen fit to take a jaunt in Berlin, Germany."

Rudolphus felt all the air in his lungs leave him and it took every ounce of control he had not to betray himself.

"Bring him back."

_..._

_Am I the only one excited?! Plus, __**really**__ long chapter but I hope it now makes sense why the last one was a little shorter and ended where it did? _


	29. To Be So Lucky?

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

…

_I've got a new story up for anyone that's interested. It's a Harry Potter/Vampire Diaries crossover with a (Fem)HP/Klaus pairing. I've been reading nothing but Klaus/OC fanfiction for the last month and a half and had so many ideas that I simply had to write one myself. ;D_

…

Bellows of laughter had Lily looking up from the sink full of dishes she was washing to glance out the charming little window directly in front of her.

She smiled at the scene.

James and Sirius, overcome with hilarity, were holding onto each other in a fruitless effort to keep themselves upright, while her son, now sporting two tentacles for arms had nothing but bright pink bubbles escaping his mouth every time he opened it to demand that they change him back.

"Don't you think they should be treating this more seriously?" Remus asked from beside her, his brow crinkled with concern as he dried the dishes.

She sighed heavily, her eyes, almost against their will, flicking down to read the exposed front cover of the Daily Prophet lying folded on the bench beside her.

'_Not Enough Fame for the Boy Who Lived!-He Wants More!'_

"What am I supposed to do, Remus?" She asked quietly, her eyes roaming the black and white photograph of her son.

On a three second repeat clip, it showed Landon stumbling away from the reporters with a panicked look on his face, taking down at least four of the people around him in his haste to escape.

"None of us were expecting this reaction when we came out and said that he'd returned. I worry about him, all the time." Lily looked up into sympathetic grey eyes. "Landon loves being the centre of attention, he's always adored the spotlight and though that might not always be a good thing it has meant that, thankfully, that aspect of his fame never intimidated him." She looked down into the water. "He's never been afraid to see the paper before...this smear campaign is taking its toll, on all of us."

"He's resilient Lily, and Voldemort won't keep silent forever." Remus encouraged with a small hopeful tone.

A bitter smile twisted her lips, "To think that it's come to that...that we are hoping the Dark Lord will attack innocent people. That that is something we wish for..." She shook her head and grabbed a slippery glass from the soapy water, wiping at the rim with a sponge.

"He needs to be trained though," Remus stated seriously giving a pointed look to the debacle outside that was supposed to have been a lesson in combat.

"I'm just relieved that he's still laughing," Lily shrugged. "Truthfully, I don't know how he always seems able to look on the bright side of things. He gets the unfailingly positive attitude from his Father, I guess."

The werewolf frowned at the beautiful red-headed woman beside him, his enhanced eyesight able to pick up the dark smudges underneath her eyes even through the copious amount of makeup she was using to hide them.

He bit back the instinct to ask if she was okay, knowing how ridiculous it would sound. None of them were okay, least of all the mother of Landon Potter. But he couldn't help feeling that the stress so apparent in her face was something more than the already trying circumstances they were living under.

Lily had been acting withdrawn and introspective for weeks now, and for the life of him he couldn't remember if her behaviour had come on gradually or if it was triggered by something in particular.

Not liking the shadows in her emerald eyes that betrayed far away thoughts, Remus deliberately cleared his throat, "Perhaps you're right," He nodded to the scene outside in explanation when all she shot him was a look of confusion. Her thoughts must indeed have been far away. "I don't like the way Landon now shy's away from the media."

She laughed lightly and nudged his side with a playful elbow, "I thought that you'd be pleased. For years you've been saying that he enjoys his fame too much."

He shook his head sadly, "Not like this."

Lily hummed in agreement but she wasn't really thinking on his reply.

A question had been flittering about her head for the last half hour now, ever since Remus and she had been left alone to clean up from lunch. She desperately wanted to ask but she didn't know how she could adequately explain away her interest so it wouldn't look suspicious.

Her eyes darted outside and she bit her lip in indecision. She wouldn't get another chance like this. The times that she was alone with Remus for long enough periods where they wouldn't be overheard were few and far between.

Decision made, Lily drew in a deep breath and made sure all expression but mild interest was gone from on her features. "Are the Goblins giving you any information concerning the vaults of Azkaban's escapees, Remus?" She asked lightly.

Grey eyes immediately swung around to pierce her, "...I wasn't aware that you knew I was a part of that team."

Lily let amused exasperation fill her eyes as she tilted her head at the man beside her, "Don't be so stuffy, Remus. I simply overheard Blake at the last Order meeting mention that you and a few others were attempting to convince Gringotts to supply you with information on any movements within the vaults of convicted Death Eaters."

"Overheard?" Remus repeated with disbelief. "Blake's an auror, I doubt he's going around discussing confidential Order assignments to the person beside him as casual conversation."

She rolled her eyes and shrugged, "Fine, he had a tiny little privacy ward up. I was curious." She defended with a charming smile.

Lily watched with guilt as Remus's walls fell and he smiled at her before nodding. She always had been a superb liar.

The werewolf sighed heavily turning around so that he was resting against the counter, his back to the window. "The Goblins aren't budging. They refuse to surrender their neutrality and I got the impression that even if they were willing it wouldn't necessarily be our side that would gain their ultimate support."

Worry and dread started squeezing that knot that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her stomach a few months ago, tightening to the point that Lily had to physically press a balled fist against her belly in an effort to somehow relieve the tension.

"So you've gathered no intelligence? None?" Her voice was flat, emotionless as she stared out the window.

Remus shook his head not noticing the change in his friend's wife, too lost in his own musings. "Bill, before he, … well, he was a favourite among the Goblins and off the record, a few of them would pass information to him which he then passed on to us."

Lily bit her lip hard.

She had absolutely no right to be angry at Remus' lack of progress but that didn't stop the feeling, or the fact that Lily had to forcibly press her lips together in order to suppress the stinging rebuke on the tip of her tongue.

"They're getting their money in and out easily enough, we know that for sure. Most of them are paying for everything with cash which I can only assume is so we can't track them through their purchases."

"Most of them…" Lily repeated slowly, frowning as she looked out the kitchen window. "So…?"

Remus nodded with a smile. "You always have been quick, Lily." He complimented with a wry grin.

She could find no humour in the comment though. The scene playing outside her window had captured her completely. Her son and husband were laughing together, grinning widely at each other as the elder threw his arm over his progeny's shoulders in loving camaraderie.

Since the minute she'd read about the breakout there wasn't a moment that had gone by that Lily wasn't scared. Not a second's worth of reprieve. She was terrified…all the time. It was an awful way to live but God, she couldn't help it.

A barking, tail wagging Sirius casually bumped into Landon, knocking the teenager to the ground before sitting back on his haunches with a smug look.

She didn't want to lose this.

James…Landon…they could never know.

_He _could never know.

She spent every second of everyday dreading the possibility. It petrified her.

"It's not much, but we've got people watching the tavern in Knockturn Alley which, it would seem, is a favourite haunt for Death Eaters."

"We knew that already." Lily breathed out with bitter, angry disappointment.

She hadn't expected him to make so careless a mistake, but she'd hoped.

White, delicate hands curled tightly around the rim of the old fashioned sink and she leant forward until the joints in her shoulders, elbows and wrists were bearing all of her slight weight.

There was always the chance that Azkaban had damaged that darkly formidable mind. She'd hoped, prayed, that it might be so.

To be so lucky? For him to somehow, in someway be caught by the authorities? For this suffocating dread to lift from her shoulders, safe in the knowledge that _he _was behind bars? That he wouldn't find out? That he _couldn't _find out?

Good God, she hoped.

...

It was rhythmical. That click. Dependable. Never a millisecond late. It was there every time his heel connected with the bank's floor. With every swift step he took towards the exit. That unique sound of plain black boots hitting polished marble seemed to echo and reverberate through his mind like a drum.

It wasn't often that he was caught unawares.

When he'd rushed headlong into a handsome elderly lady in the middle of his wood outside Blackbourne orphanage and she'd turned around and adopted him, he'd been amazed. When he realised that he trusted Gabriel, Demetri, Julian, Astrid and even Marionette to keep his secrets, he'd been shaken. And when he'd landed in the middle of a room filled with Death Eaters, a tortured Mr Shields brought along for the ride, only to feel that magic and look into dark crimson eyes, he hadn't known how to react.

But Sweet Darkness...this was different.

Rudolphos Le'strange and Lily Potter...his parents.

It didn't seem real.

How was it even possible?! If he had been asked to pick an unlikelier pair he'd be hard pressed to name one.

Hadrian swept out of the grand double door exit and breathed in deeply.

The icy air was welcoming as it hit his lungs, the cold bite to his skin grounding him.

Without really seeing the platinum blonde, some subconscious control, nevertheless, had him verbalising a sharp, short command to follow as he strode past. It was a strange feeling. Some part of him knew exactly where he was going, but at the same time was so preoccupied that he hadn't an inkling.

His thoughts wouldn't leave him alone. Against his will, the tumult of questions that been too frozen by shock before began to fly through his mind, refusing to be silenced.

_Why_ had they given him away?!

Whatcould _possibly_ have motivated them to drop him off at a Muggle orphanage of all places?!

How had it _ever _even_ happened_?!

The shouts and squeals of laughter around him seemed dim and remote, as if underwater. His body weaving swiftly through the overwhelming crowd of the Alley without any conscious direction, Malfoy heir at his side.

They both had spouses! Families! _Responsibilities_!

They were on opposite_ fucking _sides of the _fucking war_!

…

…Unless…

Hadrian's pace slowed.

Unless…

His thoughts, so deafening barely a second ago immediately stilled, silent.

…Unless,…they didn't know.

The realisation was like an arctic wind that froze everything in its path.

They didn't know.

Nobody knew about him.

Without wanting it, without permission or sanction, despite his own silent disbelief and inner fury at his reaction-because this was **not meant to matter!** An icy fury began to lick at his belly as the word that had silenced his mind seemed to now whisper from all corners.

_Secret._

He was a secret.

Hadrian's jaw locked and he picked up his pace.

They hadn't told anyone.

He was a dirty, horrible mistake.

Something never to be spoken of.

Something to be hidden away in the dregs of Muggle society and forgotten about.

Nothing but a skeleton you hoped would never come to light.

...

"Did you hear the rumours?"

Gabriel glanced over at his unwilling companion and nodded. "I suppose that that's why Hadrian wishes to meet with us." He stated unemotionally.

"What's wrong with you?" Demetri finally just came right out and asked.

Gabriel looked down at the worn wooden table of the booth silently.

Just when Demetri was starting to think that the French wizard wasn't going to say anything the blonde spoke. "I have to tell Hadrian something…something I never thought I would ever have to say, and I don't know how to do it." He muttered.

The Russian wizard frowned, bewildered by the words. Surely he wasn't supposed to be able to garner some sort of useful information from that was he?

"What are you talking about, Dalton?"

Gabriel suddenly looked up and sat back against the worn leather seat, "I've been going over and over this in my mind, and for the life of me, I'm starting to wonder if I was just blind to it, or didn't care enough to see it. Because even now, I can't remember anything that might have alerted me to the way Julian was starting to see us." He stated with obvious frustration.

Demetri, who had been looking at the wizard he'd never see eye to eye with like he was crazy, suddenly frowned with alarm at the mention of their mutual friend.

Gabriel ran his fingers through his long hair, tugging on the strands as he fixed Cartus with an expectant look. "I didn't see it! He's going around calling Hadrian evil. Spouting Light propaganda like he doesn't possess a brain and basically, without actually saying the words, declaring dark magic heinous! How do you miss something like that?! Please, tell me, because I'm at my wits end and Hadrian's going to be furious and right now I don't know whether to try and talk him down or help him!"

Demetri blinked, "Wait, what?" He demanded on a hollow laugh.

"Oh," Gabriel threw a careless hand in Cartus' direction. "Well, at least I know I wasn't the only one that missed it." He drawled bitterly.

"Stop," Demetri raised both his hands palms out in a sign to calm down.

He'd never seen Dalton like this before. His emotions were all over the place. Angry, confused, sad and nervous. But if he was hearing Gabriel right, he didn't blame him at all. In fact, he was surprised that Julian wasn't unconscious in the seat next to them about to become the recipient of an intervention.

Dalton suddenly seemed to lose all energy in his body, his shoulders sagging as he rested a fisted hand against his lips. "I'm so mad at Julian I could kill him for what he's done. And I don't think he even realises half the consequences that his defection will have." Gabriel laughed without humour and shook his head, his expression sobering. "Then I remember that I've lost one of my best friends…It sounds ridiculous, but it feels like," He shrugged with aggravation. "It's as if Julian died. He may as well have died." The blonde admitted quietly.

Demetri couldn't think of any words, his shock was too great.

"...I think I did this to him, Demetri." Gabriel whispered hoarsely.

Finally, with difficulty, he swallowed.

"Tell me everything," Demetri ordered.

…

Remus shrugged without comment, "It was a slim chance, Lily. We never really expected to come across any truly useful information."

"I know," She passed him a plate to dry, "But there was a chance."

"The only other thing we got was that the purebloods are stocking up on potion supplies, as you would expect."

Lily scoffed, "Of course, with the amount of money in their vaults I'm sure they can afford to buy all the potion ingredients in Britain; leaving none for us."

A warm hand on her elbow distracted her from glaring heatedly at the now cold water and she glanced up into warm grey eyes.

"Try to cheer up, Lily. I know that it seems impossible, but try to think of everything you have; a loving husband and a wonderful son. As it stands right now, you know that your child is safe. Although they might not be willing to admit it, there are many Mothers out there that don't have that comfort."

Remus looked over his shoulder at the now clear grass and realised that James, Sirius and Landon must have come inside.

"I feel pity for the parents that refuse to see the truth of Voldemort's return because they won't be able to protect their children. Their sons and daughters will suffer from their lack of willingness to believe and they'll hate themselves for it. And the tragic thing is, at the end of the day, when they're burying their child, they'll have no-one but themselves to blame for it."

The words were meant to warm her. They should have warmed her. But the longer Remus continued to speak, whether it was because she'd been thinking about this constantly or not, the words seemed to trigger thoughts that she hadn't had for years. Questions, regrets and memories of a small baby boy with her green eyes began crawling their way to the surface.

"Don't you see Lily? Unlike the millions of parents out there right now, your conscience is clear. You are doing absolutely everything to protect your son. Just like any parent ought to. Your child will be ready, Lily. You can't ask any more of yourself than that."

As he finished speaking a gentle smile was pulling up his lips and he finally turned to look at his friend, hoping that his words had eased whatever was haunting her so much.

He never expected the sight that greeted him.

Lily was white.

All the blood had drained away from her face. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears that wouldn't fall. Any blush in her cheeks had vanished so that the only colour in her porcelain appearance was the unique emerald of her eyes that looked enormous in amongst her delicate features.

Remus jerked upright, alarm rising in him quickly. In an almost instinctive move he reached out to grasp her forearms, trying to lend her some feeling of stability, he'd never seen the independent, fiery woman look so shell shocked before.

"Lily? Lily?!" He had no idea why he was yelling but her eyes looked so distant, it was like she wasn't even seeing him. Whatever was in her thoughts had consumed her.

"What's going on in here?"

Remus looked behind him and almost wilted in relief when he saw James striding into the kitchen making a beeline for his wife. An intense look dominated his face while hazel eyes darted around the kitchen looking for any visible signs of danger that could threaten his small family.

"I don't know," He explained hastily, knowing how protective the Potter Lord was when it came to his family "We were just talking! I-I think I was- I was saying that Lily shouldn't feel guilty." The words, now remembered, came with a rush. "That she was doing _so _much more for her child than so many other mothers out there who-"

"Shut up!" James interrupted him with a stinging hiss, an almost frantic look in his eye.

Remus jerked back as if struck. He didn't understand, had he done something wrong? James certainly seemed to think so if the rigid way he was holding his body was any indication. But for the life of him he couldn't understand what in his words could possibly have upset Lily so.

"Mum?"

The worried question from the doorway seemed to snap the redhead back to reality and suddenly Remus was fighting not to wince as her small white hands slid down to grip his own with admirable strength.

"Mum? Dad? What's wrong?" Landon asked anxiously.

Remus didn't know what to do when Sirius, standing beside Landon with a restraining hand on his shoulder, shot him a questioning look.

Abruptly, Lily let go of his hands, her eyes flickering up to James' stoic face.

They seemed to have a silent conversation and her features adopted an apologetic sadness which James eventually gave a curt nod of acknowledgment to, his mouth thin.

Remus could only watch as the normally affectionate couple stood together awkwardly, a tense air between them that the werewolf had never seen the like of before.

"Mum?" Landon shook off his godfather and stepped into the room.

Lily's face transformed into a genuine smile as she looked at her son, "I'm fine. Please, I apologise Remus." She said earnestly.

"Of course," he nodded to her hesitantly.

Why did he feel so uncomfortable?

"Landon, darling," Lily gestured to her son to sit at the table. "I only caught a glimpse of what you and your Father got up to outside but even I couldn't miss the tentacles. What on Earth happened there?"

Landon grinned and bounded over to give his mother a play-by-play. James' body gradually relaxing the longer Lily and Landon conversed together, the red-head giving her son her undivided attention.

Only minutes later the small family of three was laughing heartily, James and Lily holding each other's hand on top of the table in an undeniably sweet, loving gesture.

Remus and Sirius stood off to the side with perplexed expressions as the pair attempted to make sense of the rapid shift in atmosphere.

"What the hell happened?" Sirius muttered low enough so only the werewolf could hear. "James looked like he would have flayed you alive if you didn't stop talking, Remus."

"I don't know," The words seemed weak but honestly he had nothing else to tell the animagus.

"Don't give me that! What aren't you telling me?" Sirius whispered harshly under his breath.

Remus glared at the suspicious look the Black Lord was sending his way and leaned closer. "What aren't _you _telling _me,_ Sirius." He corrected. "James tells you everything! What the hell did I say that was so bad?!"

Seeing the genuine bewilderment in the werewolf's eyes, Sirius glanced back over to the little family feeling utterly confused. "He hasn't told me anything..." The pureblood trailed off before shaking his head as if to dispel unwanted thoughts. "They're just stressed, Moony. You shouldn't take it to heart."

"I suppose," Remus murmured quietly.

Grey eyes flickered between the married couple thoughtfully, his quick mind working overtime. It was obvious that Lily and James were hiding something. The only question was if what they were hiding was any business of his?

…

Stumbling, he barely managed to keep his feet.

"Would you stop pulling me around!" Draco ripped free of Walker's grasp only to have to fling out an arm for balance when the uneven ground under him caused his body to tilt dangerously. "I'm perfectly capable of getting from A to B on my own two feet without any help from anyone!" He snapped hotly.

He'd been doing so well too, he groused internally.

While Walker had been inside the bank doing whatever secret thing he needed to do, Draco had come to the conclusion that things had to change. Ever since he'd landed in Berlin's magical shopping alley face first, Walker had been calling all the shots and he'd been letting him.

Trailing behind his classmate, jogging to catch up every few steps and generally looking like an obedient puppy as he'd been doing all morning was simply unacceptable for the heir of the Malfoy family…not to mention that when he'd realised what he must have looked like next to the poised Hadrian he hadn't been able to help from wincing in embarrassment.

Determined to turn over a new leaf in his dealings with Walker, unable to stomach the mere thought of once again being caught unprepared and unawares, made certain that his eyes didn't stray from the bank's doors even once since he'd taken up his post.

As soon as he'd seen Walker appear on the top step of Gringotts, Draco had hastily straightened from his leaning position against the tree he'd been banished to in the centre of the courtyard.

Hadrian hadn't even had the decency to make eye contact with him, he'd just barked out a 'keep up.'

Forcibly pushing his annoyance aside, he wasn't about to let that distract him from his next goal, mercury eyes had focused intently on Walker's stride as he approached him. At precisely the correct moment, right when the raven haired wizard was about to move past him and re-merge with the crowd, Draco fell cleanly into step beside him.

A private grin of satisfaction had curled up his lips and, irrationally, he'd glanced to his right to see if his companion had noticed.

He hadn't.

Draco tried to step forward but had to quickly rebalance himself again. What the hell were they standing on?! Squinting at the ground didn't really help; it was too dark to make out anything but rocks and mud.

Frowning, he glanced up.

Giant oak trees on either side of what he could only assume was meant to be a path, had grown wild and thick creating a unique canopy of leaves and branches overhead. The foliage was so thick that only trickles of the noon-day sun were getting through.

That explained the mud, he thought, recalling the wet squelching noise that his lifted boot had made earlier with a grimace of unwanted understanding.

"You know I can apparate just as well as you can," Draco snapped angrily.

He looked up when no words answered his comment.

A disinterested Walker was pointing vaguely at his clothing, not even looking at him. "You'll have to change those into something a little less conspicuous." Green eyes were scanning the numerous shadows surrounding them instead, ignoring the blonde's earlier comments completely.

The expectation dripping from those words set his teeth on edge and it didn't help when he noticed Hadrian was standing firmly on his feet having evidently landed with perfect balance.

His eyes narrowed, "Why?"

But Walker was already moving down the ill-lit muddy lane. Draco glared at the back of his companion's leather jacket as he was once again, despite his best efforts, left behind. He was beginning to feel like a piece of luggage!

A smooth tenor voice drifted back to him. "Because your clothes practically scream 'come rob me, I have money'."

His eyes, previously combing the uneven ground for any dangers as he moved forward abruptly widened and snapped up. "Come rob me..." Draco echoed hollowly. "Just what sort of place are we going to?!"

The country lane appeared deserted; the only sound he could make out was that of his own hurried footsteps as he pushed himself to catch up. He had no idea where they were but the lack of people, muggle cars and the abundant amount of nature around them had led him to think they were in the country.

He supposed that it was secluded, quiet enough to possibly attract a fair bit of crime.

Uneasy, he quickened his step. His eyes, far too preoccupied with scouting for possible ambushes, weren't paying attention to where he was putting his feet and with a loud splash he fell forward into a water-filled pothole.

Walker spun around with a withering glare and Draco suddenly realised, faced with eyes he'd already forgotten the true intimidating intelligence behind, that this was the first time he'd looked at him since leaving the bank.

"Would you shut up!" Walker hissed quietly. The lack of volume didn't take away from the intensity of his order and Draco froze instinctively, one foot still submerged in the muddy puddle half-way up to his knee. "Stop moving." He ordered softly.

Draco watched with disbelief as emerald eyes deliberately closed, Walker took long deep breathes, just standing there in the middle of the lane. What the hell?! His mercury eyes darted around the tree-lined lane anxiously as he strained his ears in an effort to pick up noise that would betray any lurking individuals. Whether it was the soft volume of his warnings or the fact that for the first time Walker was acting less than relaxed, for some inexplicable reason he kept his silence despite his nervous bewilderment.

"Nothing," Hadrian murmured. "We're alone." He spoke clearly, eyes fluttering open.

"Did you just-?" Draco stuttered in shock. "Was that-?" Did Walker just use his magic to scan their surroundings?!

He swallowed dryly picking his foot out of the puddle without complaint. Great Darkness, if Walker had really used his magic as a tangible sixth sense…he shook his head numbly and brought a hand up to shield his eyes knowing that his shock and worry was displayed all across his expression.

Such control over one's magic was a lauded skill. Wizards and witches worked for years to become so familiar with their own core. It was a skill achieved through decades of hard work and even then it couldn't be done by the majority of people. You needed power, skill and absolute will power to exert that much authority over the inherent wildness of magic.

But if you managed it…? The difference in a person's spells! The types of magics that would be open to them…! But Walker was so young! No, it wasn't possible! It simply…he looked up to see Hadrian surveying him with an impatient look, his arms crossed over his chest as if he was debating something with himself…wasn't possible.

"If I answer your question, tell you where we are and what we are doing here, do I have your word that you will follow my instructions?"

Still reeling from the truly scary information he'd just uncovered about his companion's magical capabilities, it took a moment but finally, finally he slowly nodded his mute agreement.

By chance, a small shaft of sunlight caught his attention and instinctively his eyes followed the light. He wouldn't have noticed it but for that flittering sunlight; Walker's hands were clenched tightly at his sides, so tightly in fact that Draco would be surprised if the muscles in his forearms weren't threatening to cramp. A thought suddenly occurred to him and his gaze immediately darted up. With increasing worry he realised that nothing in those handsome features betrayed anything.

Walker gestured for Draco to follow him down the lane.

Shaking his head, he internally rebuked himself. No matter how strange or down-right frightening some of the things he was discovering today were, nonetheless, he needed to focus on the here and now.

As soon as the blonde was at Walker's side, slightly out of breath, the raven haired wizard spoke. "I am meeting some people I know at a pub that is at the end of this path. It's remote, cheap and the owner doesn't ask questions. As a consequence, it has a reputation for being safe from the authorities and, as you would expect, attracts clientele that operate in the shadier parts of society."

If Draco hadn't seen those clenched hands with his own eyes, nothing in Walker's tone would have given the heir beside him any reason to suspect that he wasn't perfectly in control. It worried him. How was he supposed to look out for himself and his interests if he couldn't accurately read his classmate? At all, apparently!

"So my clothes?" He fingered his robes hesitantly, not liking the sound of this.

Without warning, Walker flicked his wand and the rich black robes and expensive boots abruptly morphed into a generic looking jumper and slacks. "Are like a red flag in there, yes." He muttered distractedly, his thoughts clearly on the meeting ahead of him.

"So it's like the Hogs Head?" Draco nodded to himself.

He could handle that. He and his friends had often snuck down to the pub in the last two years to get a shot of fire whiskey on a Hogsmeade weekend. He didn't know why Walker was making such a fuss.

The body beside him abruptly stopped.

Hadrian turned slowly and looked him straight in the eye, exasperated frustration easy to read in their depths. Knowing what he now knew about exactly how well he was able to read Walker, Draco had no doubt that it was deliberate.

"I'm not expecting any trouble in there, Malfoy. It's one of the appeals of this type of establishment; no one talks about the other people they see in the place. But, if something does happen you won't be dealing with law abiding, moral people." Walker stated seriously.

Despite knowing that this was neither the time nor the place, Draco couldn't help from appreciating the symmetry of Walker's features once again. It was infuriating, especially when emerald eyes suddenly rolled with bored knowledge and he had to look away in embarrassment.

He just didn't understand why someone would wish to hide their attractiveness. It wasn't a surprise considering his heritage, but Draco had experienced on multiple occasions the benefits of having an undeniably handsome face. People were more willing to forgive you, try to gain your attention, take notice of you. All in all it made life easier and, however shallow; it was something that every single person noticed, no matter how much they might wish not to. Case in point? Hermione Granger.

"Malfoy!" Walker barked impatiently at him. "Concentrate. Because most of the people in there don't know the meaning of 'he's had enough' or 'walk away'. They are liars, sneaks, murderers and thieves. But above all else, they want to pass by unnoticed. So don't give anyone a reason to take an interest in you, got it?"

Perhaps he should be taking more notice of the warning but honestly, even if it was that bad he'd been to Knockturn Alley with his father a number of times and he'd never had a problem. He doubted he'd see anything he'd never run across before.

He was far more interested in voicing the theory that had just occurred to him.

Draco's face adopted a speculative look as he observed Walker. "Is that what you were doing at Hogwarts? Passing unnoticed? Making sure that no one had a reason to become interested in you?"

Hadrian exhaled with a small smirk, "Just don't do anything stupid." He continued forward at a brisk pace, "I'm in no mood to save your hide from a well deserved beating."

The pair turned the corner and, without warning, sound burst to life all around them. Hollers and laughs and calls for alcohol that had been muffled by a sound dampening ward were deafening now that they'd crossed the perimeter.

Draco immediately lifted both hands to cup his ears, the drastic change from silence to over a hundred loud, raucous voices actually painful.

Having seen Walker's enviable way with crowds in Hallow-fed, Draco stuck close to his side as the raven's taller figure navigated through the drunken rabble with ease.

"Watch where you're going, would you?!" A middle aged man holding two tankards of beer scowled at him darkly.

"S-sorry," He apologised hastily.

He'd almost bumped into the man a second ago; too busy staring at the drunken wizards duel going on on the snow covered grass to his right.

Without waiting for a reply, whether friendly or not, he quickly skirted the broader figure and darted around him.

Jogging up the old stone pathway filled with cracks, he relaxed slightly when Walker came back into view. The Malfoy ward had been true to his word, continuing forward toward the dark wooden door to the pub and leaving him to deal with whatever problems he got himself into.

He hadn't thought Walker was being serious with his last, almost throwaway comment about not bailing him out of anything that might happen in the pub. He glanced behind him nervously, suddenly feeling much more vulnerable than he had a moment ago.

That was when he realised that despite having been to Knockturn Alley with his father, he'd never been anything more than respectfully wary of the people and environment. Not because he didn't understand its very real dangers but because he'd always had the comfort of knowing his father would keep him safe.

This was a whole different situation.

He was alone here. There was no one to bail him out if he got into something he couldn't handle.

Merlin, he didn't know whether to feel empowered or terrified.

Rushing to catch up, he was at Hadrian's side as he pushed open the door. No signs of the same nervousness that Draco was feeling were evident in the muggleborn, and somehow, the blonde didn't think Walker was faking his lack of concern.

He peered at Hadrian thoughtfully. To be so relaxed and self assured as to walk into a place as volatile as this without hesitation spoke volumes for both Walker's capabilities and confidence. It felt surreal. Looking at Walker now, knowing that he had them convinced their whole school careers that he was a brown-nosing coward incapable of standing up for himself, when in reality; an immovable force had been lurking beneath the surface this whole time.

Clouds of smoke rushed outside in the small space of time it took for both of them to slip inside, you couldn't even hear the ring of the brass bell that announced the presence of a new customer amidst the swell of noise.

Hadrian tilted his head in a gesture to follow him and climbed up a discreet wooden staircase just to their left. Upstairs was just as crowded but it was filled with booths and tables as dozens of people ate their meals.

Scanning the crowd, emerald orbs caught the careful wave of a familiar figure and quickly stalked forward, a nervous blonde at his heels.

Sliding into the worn red leather booth the deafening sounds of the pub instantly quietened.

When no body immediately followed his own onto the seat, Hadrian looked up to see an open mouthed Malfoy staring at the people he was meeting with shock.

Rolling his eyes, he snapped out a hand and caught the blonde's wrist; with a none too gentle tug, he pulled the idiot into the empty space beside him.

"Wasn't it just ten minutes ago that you were stomping your feet and yelling that I didn't need to haul you around everywhere?" Hadrian commented in a dry tone.

"Hadrian."

...

Hadrian watched the winter sun set alone.

Gabriel had apparated away at least ten minutes ago. After it became clear that Hadrian didn't want to talk about Julian the blonde had finally just left, not knowing what else to do.

They'd travelled at least half a kilometer away from the isolated pub. Gabe had insisted for reasons unknown to him at the time. Demetri had stayed behind, less than happy in his volunteered role of babysitter for the blonde menace.

This day was just full of surprises, wasn't it? He thought bitterly, the irony of Julian's betrayal didn't escape him.

A soft coo was the spotty brown owl's only herald as it swooped over the high rose hedge lining the country lane to alight itself on Hadrian's shoulder.

"Now who might you be from I wonder?" Hadrian murmured under his breath as he raised a hand to stroke the animal's wing, using the other to deftly untie the letter that was attached to its outstretched leg.

When the bird flew off without waiting for a reply Hadrian raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

Drawing his wand he cast a multitude of diagnostic, anti-surveillance and detection charms on the letter but found nothing. It was clean. There wasn't even a simple spell to make sure that only he might read the contents.

Peering down at the unassuming yellow parchment, his eyes narrowed suspiciously at the unfamiliar handwriting on the front before he turned it over looking for any sign as to who had sent it to him.

Fingering the edges for a moment in indecision, Hadrian shrugged and slipped a finger under the wax seal at the back and pulled up. Both his spells and his innate magic was telling him that there was nothing dangerous about the letter and if there was one thing he trusted, it was his magic.

_Hadrian,_

_It might interest you to know that the Ministry, led by Arthur Weasely, plans to conduct a raid on Malfoy Manor at 4pm. It was pushed through the ministry quickly so that the team of aurors would have the element of surprise. Officially, they are looking for dark artifacts. In reality, they are looking for William Weasely, Nymphadora Tonks and Mundungus Fletcher, members of the Order of the Phoenix._

_I hope this information reaches you in time and is of use._

_Your Friend._

Hadrian read through the letter twice, not sure what to make of it. If this was true...

"Tempus," He whispered.

3:30pm.

"Gentlemen," Hadrian called politely, his tone was perfectly cordial and one might easily make the mistake of believing its truth. Folding the letter in half he slid it safely into the breast pocket of his leather jacket. "Is there something I can help you with?" Turning fluidly so that the bushy rose hedge was now at his back, Hadrian eyed the dozen or so wizards that had managed to loosely circle him intently.

From behind an un-kept giant of a man stepped a middle aged woman, wand gripped firmly in her hand.

Her hair was long and black. Her eyes, brown, were placed too widely on her face to ever be considered anything other than perhaps striking. And despite the considerable weight she had lost from her previously very plump figure, Hadrian recognised her instantly.

He smirked. "Veronica," Hadrian gave her a mocking nod of acknowledgment.

The woman instantly bristled, the abrupt way she straightened her already upright posture causing the hem on the old fashioned woolen dress she was wearing to quiver against the winter grass at their feet.

Hadrian looked pointedly at the grubby ramshackle group of thugs surrounding him. "Bit cliché isn't it?" It was beyond obvious what Veronica intended to do. "Where'd you get the money to pay them anyway?" He asked with a mildly interested tone before shooting her a vicious grin. "After all, the Belgium authorities took your entire fortune away from you, didn't they?"

"Shut your mouth boy!" Her hiss was like a whip, her brown eyes thunderous as she shook with anger. "Your arrogance borders on stupidity. Do you really think I don't have friends willing to give me money? Friends that wish for nothing more than to see you burn?" She abruptly stepped forward, hands fisted strongly at her sides. "I've waited a year for this. A year to get my revenge and by Gods, I intend to enjoy your pain before I kill you." Veronica spat at him.

He wasn't paying attention. His mind far busier analysing the best way he could get out of this. Apparation was out; he'd felt the ward go up just before they'd appeared. Hadrian idly fingered his wand, ready to draw it with the smallest of signs. Most of the men circling him looked to be forcing themselves not to attack; their eyes were eager and violent.

No conscience here would be troubled by his murder.

"Honesty Veronica, if you could only hear yourself." Emerald eyes rolled. "I don't know why you're acting so self-righteous. I only did to you what you have managed to do to many other prominent families in Belgium. I doubt any of the people that you ruined hunted you down with flea-bitten mongrels at their sides in order to exact their revenge."

"You destroyed my life!" She shrieked hoarsely. "They came to my house. Destroyed everything I owned, storming through room after room breaking priceless heirlooms as if they were nothing! Because of you! You told them!"

"That you were bribing countless politicians in order to operate your very lucrative corner of the black market?" Hadrian crossed his arms. "Of course I did. I told you not to get involved with the Scarlett affair, I told you to stay away from Britain." He shrugged without remorse. "You've done the same to people that got in your way."

The slight crinkle noise from his pocket reminded him that he was on a clock.

She laughed brokenly, "I sheltered you and your Mother on countless occasions…was it really so easy?"

"Yes." He stated coldly.

She nodded, a sick smile curling her lips, "Then I'm going to enjoy this even more than I was expecting to."

"Diffindo!"

Hadrian ducked. A swiftly conjured shield blocked the real threat, a silent bone-breaking curse from his left.

He needed a distraction.

"Incendio."

A giant wall of fire, pumped high with more magic than this spell was intended to handle drove his attackers back. Taking the opportunity, Hadrian waved his wand at the muddy lane beneath his feet levitating grains of sand into the air; a skilful twist of his wrist transfigured the grains into tiny, almost microscopic shards of glass.

"Crucio!"

Dodging the angry red spell Hadrian glimpsed two charred figures screaming in the grass obviously having been too close to the flames to escape their heat.

"Flank him!" Veronica's voice screamed instructions to the more brawn than brain rabble.

Twisting in his spot, narrowly avoiding a spell that whizzed past his ear, Hadrian flung his arm out and propelled his glass forward on a conjured wind.

Knowing that the glass would need time to work, to affect their sight, Hadrian finally let loose with a torrent of spells.

Adrenaline racing, his body moving constantly as he dodged and weaved his way out of danger, Hadrian began to methodically take them down one by one. His opponents for all their appearance were experienced and ruthless. They didn't fight fair and had no problem shooting a spell at his turned back.

While Hadrian was the far better dueler he was still battling twelve wizards and a fairly talented witch with a penchant toward cruelty. It was hard to avoid everything, to adequately defend against the onslaught while also harassing them with his own curses.

It started with misaimed spells.

Jets of light began flying off course. Disrupting the ranks. Taking out allies with friendly fire.

Then the cries of dismay and pain and shouts of confusion flooded the field.

More than four of them were in various crouching positions now, hands stretched out in front of them, wands discarded beneath their feet. Hadrian dispatched them easily.

He took down three more that were less affected in the time that it took for Veronica to begin healing her mercenaries' eyesight.

Two newly healed men ran at him from behind while he finished dispatching a comrade in front of them. Spinning, he didn't have time to raise his wand and hurriedly curled his hand into a fist in front of his face. The man on the left dropped, clutching his throat. Turning his attention back to the mountain sprinting at him, face red and practically frothing from the mouth, Hadrian's eyes suddenly widened, sensing the incoming spells.

Throwing himself out of the way he barely managed to dodge the synchronised cruciatus curses flung at him from both sides in enough time.

The mountain tackled him with a bellowing war cry, his head hitting the ground with painful force. Hot breath panted above him, the stench wretched.

"You sure do a lot of damage for someone so young, don't you, you little bastard." The wheezing breathes were suddenly the least of his problems. Meaty hands wrapped tightly around his neck and squeezed.

Instinctively, Hadrian curled his hands around the man's wrists and tried to loosen the choke hold.

"Aw," Veronica laughed gleefully, walking forward so that her dark features were within his line of sight. "It does my soul wonders to see you brought so low, Hadrian."

Angry that he'd allowed himself to be put in such a position, Hadrian glared at her blackly before letting go of the man's wrists. His arm snapped up, the heel of his hand connecting with wizard's nose. With a loud audible crunch it broke, the cartilage pulverised.

The mountain holding him down fell back with a yowl of pain.

Hadrian drew in a deep gasping breath.

"Avada Kedavra." A masculine voice snarled darkly.

The green light of the killing curse connected with one of the two remaining men. He fell to the ground, lifeless.

Hadrian didn't bother to look. He already knew who it was. Flinging his wand out, the last remaining wizard suddenly clutched at his chest. His face twisting with agony, he fell to his knees before collapsing to the ground with a dull thud, his heart having exploded in his chest.

Emerald eyes settled on the suddenly frightened looking figure of Veronica Fay. Climbing to his feet, Hadrian deliberately ignored his unexpected ally. His magic, so sensitive to other's magical signatures, was well aware of the identity of his…'rescuer'.

"Hadrian…please…" She begged pitifully.

"Mercy? Really?" He sneered at her with cold eyes. "But you so enjoyed seeing me brought low, did you not?"

Eyes wide and panicked, Veronica swallowed dryly. "Please," was all she could say.

"Avada Kedavra," Hadrian stated clearly, watching the petrified horror abound in her brown orbs with a feeling of deep satisfaction.

She fell back, her eyes open, dead.

Hadrian let his eyes slowly drift over the thirteen bodies at his feet before he finally turned to face his ally.

"So, what should I call you?" Hadrian raised his eyebrows expectantly; a small sarcastic smile twisted his lips. "After all, Rudolphus seems unnecessarily formal between Father and son, wouldn't you agree?"

…

_Don't think Hadrian's very happy with you Julian ;D Anyone think they know who the letter might be from?_ _Anyone think that Hadrian will even care if the Malfoys get in trouble? (GRIN)_

_As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and welcome any feedback!_


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